


A Map of My Heart and Mind

by Cadensaurus (orphan_account)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-04-25 13:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 89,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4962331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Cadensaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan and Phil get drunk and wake up married in Vegas, the day after Dan's 25th birthday. Dan thinks they could just get it annulled but Dan knows what marriage means to Phil, how important it is, and he wonders if they can just fake it for a year so it's not a total waste and then divorce. Of course, a year is a long time to pretend to be married and things can always change...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have an equally awkward tendency to include song lyrics as reminiscences or musings for thoughts whoops have fun with this one kids accidental marriages are always fun.

It's the day after Dan's twenty-fifth birthday. It's June 12th, 2016. It's morning, it's bright, and it's way too early. He's in Vegas again, a call-back to his twenty-first birthday.

His head throbs as he looks at the clock. It's almost eleven in the morning. That is still way too early. He doesn't remember what time they got in last night. He just remembers that he drank way too much.

It had started off with the bottle of champagne that they had in the room, which was way too expensive but Phil had insisted on opening, getting cracked open at four in the afternoon after they'd rolled in from a day of sight-seeing while the rest of their friends were still out, doing something.

They'd drunk that over the next few hours and while Dan wasn't tipsy, per se, he'd had alcohol flowing in his veins and so by the time they went to dinner, meeting up with the rest of the group, he wound up having a couple of glasses of wine, he wasn't really thinking about that, because wine isn't really that strong and he hadn't been planning on partying, just a nice dinner with Phil and his friends.

They'd traveled with PJ, Chris, Louise, Tyler, and Cat, Dan having invited all of them to celebrate with him that birthday, and they'd all fallen in together fairly easily, getting along and laughing at each other, no fractures or stresses from uncomfortable relationships, and Louise and Cat had been the ones to suggest going out to a nightclub.

That's where the real trouble had started. Because they'd all insisted on buying Dan a shot of something for his birthday, so that was six shots from his six friends over the next several hours.

Plus he'd bought a couple drinks of his own. He was toasted. He was sloshed. He couldn't walk straight. He could barely keep his eyes open. He'd been drinking on and off since four in the afternoon and by then, it was probably eleven at night.

He thinks that's where his memory drifts away from him. He faintly remembers something that has to be hours later - the sky was just starting to turn a shade lighter than black, at least, he thinks he remembers, when he and Phil made it back to their room.

He remembers laughing. They were in their group of seven, laughing hysterically. Tyler the loudest. Louise perhaps the least, as if sombered by something.

That's about all he remembers. Dan groans and rolls. He feels Phil next to him.

That's not a surprise. They'd only gotten two rooms and with four beds, it was inevitable that people shared beds. Cat and Louise, PJ and Chris, Dan and Phil. Tyler had lounged luxuriously in his own bed, grinning at them about how well he'd sleep.

They'd been there three days, arrived a couple days before Dan's birthday, had enjoyed themselves immensely. Today is their last day – they leave at five. Which means they really don't have a lot of time for anything besides packing and one last quick viewing of whatever they might want to see before they have to head to the airport.

Dan's head throbs. He's getting too old to drink like this. It's all bloody Tyler's fault anyways – he was the one who insisted on buying Dan a shot. He was also the one who insisted everybody else buy Dan a shot.

Dan finally pries open his eyes for good, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth and grimacing at the taste. Had he even bothered to fucking brush his teeth before he went to bed? He doubts it. He glances at his clothes. He didn't even bother to change before he went to bed, so yeah, he really doubts he brushed his teeth.

Phil's next to him, also wearing what he went out in the night before. Phil was nearly as drunk as Dan and Phil never drinks to get drunk but they were all drinking and Dan thinks he remembers insisting on Phil having to take a shot of whatever round that his friends bought Dan as well, because they're best friends and best friends do _everything_ together, after all.

Dan thinks Phil might thump him in the head for how drunk he got Phil last night. Dan thinks if Phil does that, he probably deserves it. He also thinks he might chuck whatever's in his stomach on Phil if Phil does that, so he kind of hopes that it doesn't happen.

Dan has to pee. Really badly. He climbs out of bed, the world swinging dizzily for a few seconds. He's not sure if he's just that hungover or if there's still liquor coursing his veins. It might be a mixture of both, to be honest. He's surprised he didn't get alcohol poisoning.

 _Never again,_ he thinks. Also, he might just murder Tyler.

He stumbles, exhausted, to the bathroom and leans his head against the wall as he focuses on aiming at the toilet and then washes his hands and it's then that he notices something.

He's got lime-citrus and cucumber-melon scented soap in his hands and he looks down and notices a silver ring on his finger. His left ring finger.

Which, that might not be so bad. He could have just bought the jewelry and not remembered. But he thinks he remembers something else, Chris jabbing his index finger at two silver rings sitting side by side in a jewelry shop and saying something about him and Phil and then something else, papers being signed, the glow of a sign that reads “OPEN 24 HOURS”, a white chapel, Tyler laughing hysterically as he encourages them to go in, _oh god -_

\- Dan goes still, hands running under the water until the tap turns from warm to hot, scalding him, and he gets jerked out of his trance, and he turns it off hastily, shakes them off, wiping them dry on his clothes even as he walks as quickly as he can manage back into the room to see Phil still asleep.

And yeah, Phil's got a matching silver ring on his own left ring finger. There's a piece of paper on the bedside table next to them. Dan reaches for it with shaky fingers.

It's exactly what he's dreading. It's a certificate that proclaims in garish, elegant script that he and Phil were married at exactly 1:34 AM in that tiny white chapel in Las Vegas.

He thinks his blood goes cold. His body gets hit with a chill and his breath sort of stutters to a stop inside of him as his legs turn to jelly.

He married Phil. While extremely drunk and apparently under the encouragement of Tyler and his friends, he married Phil. He stares at the words that refuse to come together in his brain, despite knowing what they say, what they mean. He's married to Phil.

He's definitely going to murder Tyler.

“You're up.”

Dan turns slowly to face PJ, who is sitting there, face decidedly nervous.

“How much do you remember?” PJ asks. Dan shrugs wordlessly, picking up the paper. “Do you remember anything?”

“I remember getting to the chapel and that's about it.” Dan mumbles. He doesn't want to know what happened. He doesn't want to think about it. He's so fucked. Maybe marriage in Vegas doesn't count in the UK, maybe it's only valid in the US and they can have a laugh about this later.

“Tyler and Chris are a dangerous combination together,” PJ says quietly. “I think me and Cat and Louise didn't think you'd really go through with it. Tyler and Chris were laughing and encouraging you two to get licenses – you got there at just past eleven and they said they closed at midnight, and Tyler basically rushed you through it and then practically screamed for a cab to take you to the nearest chapel.”

“It's not valid though,” Dan gasps out finally, as his brain finally signals to start breathing regularly again. His brain thrums over that fact. _It can't be valid it can't be valid it's okay it's just a hilarious in hindsight thing you did, a never to be told Reasons Why Dan's a Fail, you're not really married_.

“Actually,” PJ goes tense. “It is. I mean there's technically paperwork you have to fill out when you get back to the UK but if you're married in Vegas, you're married. I, um. I couldn't really sleep. Wasn't sure how to take all this in so I just did some research. Still gonna be valid when we get back home.”

Dan needs a shower. He feels disgusting and dirty and confused. He wants to throw up. He thinks he very well might. His stomach churns uncomfortably, empty with nothing but the remnants of too much alcohol in it.  
  
"I need to use the bathroom." He mutters. Phil snores on beside him. Might as well let him sleep for a few more minutes before he has to wake him up and announce the news.

How the hell is he going to announce this to Phil? He doesn't even remember it himself. "Peej," Dan says, "Wake him up in a couple of minutes. Tell him what happened since I don't bloody remember enough to explain. At least you remember it."

Something hits him. "We had to kiss. They always tell you that you can now kiss your partner. You may now kiss the bride and whatever. Did we?"

Chris grins slyly, voicing his thoughts finally. "It was the most pitiful kiss ever. Barely more than a peck. Phil was blushing so hard and you were too drunk to aim properly and almost missed his mouth. Afterwards, we just walked around. I don't think anybody really knew what was going on – either too drunk or too confused and stunned.” He sounds completely unapologetic. Dan hates him at that moment.

Chapels should have a no-drunk marriages policy. Dan wants to undo the last fifteen hours, stopping after they went out to dinner.

He stumbles to the bathroom and cranks on the shower and leans his head against the wall for a minute as he waits for the water to heat up.

He's married. He's married to Phil and he's straight and so's Phil and it's a valid marriage.

Fuck.

Fucking fuck.

He scrubs his body twice. He feels it hit him all at once and stands under the shower, ice-cold even though warm water is streaming over him, gasping and shaking, and he can't handle this.

He recollects himself once he's done having a panic attack. His stomach twists and his body shakes, muscles taut from trembling.

When he finishes showering, he doesn't feel any more clear-headed. He stays in the shower longer than he needs to, waiting as long as he can until he can all but ensure that Phil is awake and been informed of their situation.

Dan finally twists the handle of the shower and lets the water dribble to a stop, shaking his head to rid the water from his face.

Bad idea. Still not totally put together from the alcohol the prior night. His head spins. He's tired from his anxiety attack not even fifteen minutes ago in the shower.

He wraps a towel around himself and walks into the main room. Phil is sitting there, looking dumbly at his feet, while PJ and Chris sit, looking uncomfortable and like they have no idea what to say.

They all look at Dan as he emerges from the bathroom. He is very suddenly aware that he's naked under the towel and Phil is staring at him.

Phil looks just slightly this side of petrified.

"PJ inform you of what happened?" Dan asks. Stupid question - no doubt he has if Phil has that expression on his face.

"Ehm, no." PJ pipes up. "He woke up and I was about to tell him when he got a look on his face like he just witnessed a murder and looked at me and-"

Phil interrupts. "He didn't need to remind me. I remember." His voice is tremulous.

Dan walks on shaky legs over to his suitcase and rifles through it, finding the last clean outfit. He stares at it. Somehow it seems just too darkly appropriate that what he has is actually Phil's "Sunnydale High" shirt that he appropriated some ages ago and a pair of his own jeans and boxers.

But it just fits too perfectly in this trainwreck that he's going to be wearing Phil's clothes today. They're married. It's all just like a bad joke, and it tastes rotten in his mouth.

He mutely grabs the clothing and returns to the bathroom and dresses, resolutely not looking in the mirror as he brushes his teeth and spits and brushes his hair which is going to end up being curly because he can't bear to look at himself while he dries and straightens it so it's going to be a hobbit hair day.

It works. It just adds to the shittiness of today.

"Bathroom's free," he practically growls as he leaves it again. "I'm going for breakfast." There's no invitation for anybody to follow him. Nobody does.

He goes downstairs and loads up his plate with waffles even though he's not the least bit hungry. He drenches them with syrup and eats until he's so full it hurts and then he keeps eating, every last bite. He feels like he's going to throw up for how full he is.

And then, just because he can, he has one more waffle, thinking he very well might rupture, and thinks about what's waiting for him upstairs.

When he returns upstairs, Phil is showered and dressed. They don't talk about it. Not with PJ and Chris in the room. The conversation will wait until they get home and are alone. Or maybe they can never discuss it at all, just Dan can say, “Let's get it annulled,” and Phil will say, “Yeah, okay,” and they'll never discuss it and sign those papers too.

They pack and make sure everything is ready for them when it's time to leave. They have three hours before they have to be at the airport but, funnily enough, Dan doesn't feel like sight-seeing.

He thinks he's seen enough of Vegas to last a lifetime.

Phil says he's going to walk the strip and PJ says he's going with. He seems to be something akin to a mixture of sympathetic and trepidatious, unsure of what to say but not wanting to leave Phil alone.

Which leaves Dan with Chris. It's awkward because Chris is a fan of saying innuendo and toying with people and right now Dan thinks he might snap if Chris says anything to tease him.

He leaves the room and goes to where Louise and Cat and Tyler are and knocks. Louise answers and when she sees his face, which he tries to keep passively blank, she murmurs a soft noise and reaches for him.

"It's going to be okay, Dan." Her arms are soft and warm around his shoulders and he kind of numbly steps forward and inhales her scent. _She smells nice,_ he thinks faintly.

Cat looks just as lost to what she might say as PJ and so she throws Dan a look of torn confusion and focuses on her phone.

Tyler has the decency, when Dan meets his eyes, to look apologetic.

"I can't believe you talked me into getting married to Phil." Dan says stupidly. He thinks he should feel angry. Right now he just feels flat. His stomach churns from too much food. He feels so sick to his stomach. He really can taste the bile in the back of his throat, too much syrup, the sickly-sweet taste of it.

"I'm never drinking again," Tyler states. Dan knows that's a lie but he understands the sentiment. "I make really dumb choices like encouraging two straight guys to get married."

"We're not talking about it," Louise interrupts. "There's nothing we can do right now. So let's not stress Dan any more than he already is."

His vision wobbles a bit as panic washes over him again. He refuses to let it on. He can't panic in front of them.

“I need the bathroom,” he announces. His hair is drying and curling and it brushes his skin and he knows he looks like trash. Phil's shirt is just a touch too tight on him, made even more so from how much he stuffed himself at breakfast, and every touch of his hair and clothing is hypersensitive.

His food's not going to stay down.

Louise gets out of the way and Dan rushes into the bathroom, shoving the door behind him, and he's barely got the toilet seat up when his stomach twists one final time, he hiccups and then burps and tastes acidic sugary spit and hunches over, heaving, and it all comes up in a mess of brown mush, and he can taste it in the back of his throat until it goes from syrup to stomach acid, alcoholic remnants, and he heaves again, throws up a thin stream of spittle dribbling from his lips, stomach aching.

He leans forward against the toilet, mouth burning, tasting like the worst fucking thing ever. He spits a couple of times to get what's left out of his mouth and stands, shaking. His fingers tremble. When he looks in the mirror, his left eye is bloodshot on the bottom half.

He's popped blood vessels in his eye from how hard he just vomited. Great. He's going to look amazing at the airport today.

He rinses his mouth out, twice, three times, washes his hands, flushes the mess down the toilet.

Louise - once a mother, always a mother - gently pulls him back to her and although he's a head taller than her, he lets her hold him and rub his back. “Feel better now that it's out of you?” she asks soothingly.

He presses his face into her soft blonde hair. Honestly, he does. He's empty of all of his stomach contents and honestly, he feels better, no longer queasy. His head doesn't hurt anymore. His body feels calm. It's like he threw up all his physical ailments with it.

“Where's Phil?” Louise asks him gently. “Is Phil okay?”

“Dunno. He's walking the strip with PJ. Don't want to talk about him.” Dan says. He doesn't want to talk about anything. He just wants to stare in silence at a fucking wall until it's time to get on the plane. He wants to get on the plane, stare at the movie on the flight, eat the crappy meal, go home, and then get this all fixed.

He doesn't want to think about this.

He can't think about this.

He is not going to be married to Phil for any longer than he can help it; this was all one horrendous drunken mistake that he's never going to forgive Tyler or Chris for.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was going to write this all in one big second chapter until I realised that this is going to end up being WAY longer than I anticipated and so yeah, nah, I'll just publish it chapter by chapter. /sighs heavily when will i ever learn to do brevity who knows it's just the caden way

Dan doesn't pay attention to anything. He forces his brain to go blank. His existential crises take hours at a time and feel like days, endless. Those are nothing compared to this. Minutes crawl by where he can feel each breath dragging on, where he checks his phone every few minutes and swears it should be at least fifteen minutes later.

He doesn't go back to his room. He doesn't want to see Phil. He doesn't look at Tyler. Eventually, after about thirty minutes have passed, he goes downstairs and sits in a chair in the hotel. His phone buzzes. Flatly, he looks at it. It's PJ. He reads the message.

_u ok?_

He ignores it.

He people watches. He lets time pass by as he stares at people. He creates stories and time drifts by in an endless sink of thought and hazy energy. He ignores everything besides staring at people, ignoring the way that they occasionally stare back, obviously perturbed.

He ignores everything until his phone starts buzzing incessantly. He ignores it the first three times but the fourth time it vibrates on his thigh, he pulls it out.

Three missed calls and a message from PJ again. _where r u?? we need to get ready to leave for the airport, come meet us at your room plz_.

Dan stands and takes a long look around the hotel. The room is flat and eggshell white and there's a couple distinct crowds of people in groups, plus a couple checking in. The room looks a hell of a lot smaller, a hell of a lot less happy, than when they checked in.

He can't wait to get the hell out of here.

He rides the lift upstairs and goes to his room where Phil's standing, pushing the last remnants of Vegas, dirty clothing, into his suitcase and zipping it up. Dan stuffs last minute things away, not caring if he gets it all.

He doesn't care. He doesn't want any memory of this trip more than he has to. This was the worst mistake of his life.

He zippers shut his own suitcase. “Let's go,” he states. Voice toneless. Nobody dares talk to him. He exits the room, dragging his suitcase behind him, knocks on the room next door. Cat answers.

“We're ready to go,” Dan announces, no-nonsense. She nods, looking nervous. A minute later, the rest of the group joins them. They're a silent group of seven. Dan doesn't look back, doesn't look to see Phil in the group.

Checking out is a series of barely audible responses, signing forms, ignoring whatever the fuck their receptionist is saying, just shoving back information and marching resolutely out of the hotel.

The fresh air does nothing to revitalise him.

They hail a couple of cabs, cram into it. Cat and Tyler have different flights than the rest of them, but they're going to the airport with them to see them off.

Him and Phil and PJ and Chris, the Fantastic Foursome once again, all sitting silent. Nobody dares speak a word. It's uncomfortable and heavy and awful. Dan wants to slam his fist into a hard wall until his knuckles bleed.

He thinks he might do that anyways when they get home. His stomach is sick again.

He realises, as they sit in the cab, that he caught Phil stuffing the marriage certificate in his suitcase. Phil's bringing home that relic for whatever godawful reason. It's a reminder of the mistake and Phil's bringing it home.

He hates Tyler the most and he hates Chris a little and he almost wants to hate Phil. He doesn't hate any of them, honestly, but right now he does. He feels sorry for PJ and Cat and Louise, who are all uncomfortable, who all regret what happened, just the way he does.

He thinks he should feel bad for Phil, because Phil obviously regrets it as well. But Phil packed the goddamn certificate. So he hates him just a tiny fraction of an ounce, a crack in his wall coming down as he churns bitterly about his thoughts.

 

They sit in the airport, silent.

 

They fly, silent. Dan sticks his headphones on and ignores everybody. He puts on his television and pretends to actually give a shit about whatever it's showing.

When the hostess comes by with drinks, he almost wishes he could wash away his thoughts with a series of Bloody Mary's or rum and sodas. He turns her down, accepts a tiny glass of water, sips it.

He ignores Phil's leg next to him, jostling him, jiggling away in a nervous pattern, pretends Phil isn't there as hard as he can.

 

He makes it home, silent. He drags his suitcase behind him and throws his dirty laundry in the hamper and the rest of his shit in the corner, shoves his suitcase in a closet, goes to the kitchen, grabs a nearly-expired yoghurt and rips the cover and eats it, starving because the in-flight meal was shit.

He ignores Phil's careful, cautious tone, voicing his name. He eats two cheese sticks and throws away the yoghurt container and the wrappers from the cheese sticks. He states, as if he doesn't care less about anything, that he's going to bed, going to fight off jet lag, don't wake him.

They've got a bottle of melatonin that Phil once bought Dan to try and help him sleep during his anxiety, way back in early 2012, right after Dan dropped out of uni. Dan takes three of them instead of one and goes to his bedroom.

He pulls the blankets up over his head and covers himself in a mess of sheets and weight. His head spins soon enough from lack of oxygen and he cracks open his fort just enough until he's not so dizzy, until the melatonin kicks in and his brain suddenly goes from coherent to sluggish and he thinks distantly how much he enjoyed morphine, after his surgery, how this is just like a much lesser version of morphine, and he'd kind of like some morphine right now.

He didn't care about anything on morphine. It was nice. That would be nice right now. He doesn't want to care about anything. He's got too much on his mind and at least the melatonin is helping stop his brain.

He sleeps.

 

When he wakes up, it's just after one in the afternoon. Silent. His room echoes with the silence. He was grateful for it before. Now that he's home, he hates it. He hates even more the talk that they're going to have soon enough.

His hair is a mass of curls and he misses his straighteners. He heads straight for the shower, washes off, digs his nails into the wet mess that is his hair, conditions it, dries it, straightens it messily. He still doesn't look in the mirror.

It's been two days and he hasn't looked himself in the face. He doesn't want to see whatever expression lies there. He wonders if he got all his hair straight. He doesn't really care. He's not planning on filming a video anymore.

He was planning on a video, a 25th birthday video to make up for missing his 21st birthday footage, having lost the footage way back when at some point.

He slips the little memory disc into his computer and waits for it to load, to click over to the folder where it all lays.

He hits delete without a second thought. The files disappear and Dan doesn't care. This can just be one more running joke, a Vegas curse where he “lost” his footage again. He heads downstairs and makes stir-fry, leaves enough sitting in the pan for Phil.

Tries not to think about how they're married so now, that would just be 'natural', him taking care of his spouse. He feels sick again.

He hasn't spoken to Phil since before they left Vegas. This is the longest they've gone in probably five years without speaking, if not longer. Phil isn't approaching him.

He locks his bedroom door and stares at twitter. He checks Cat's twitter. Nothing from her. Louise's. Nothing. PJ. Nothing. Chris. Nothing. Tyler. Nothing. No information being spread across the internet that would destroy him.

Thank god, the vow of silence between Youtubers for things they can't say that happened in the privacy of their interactions.

Words are a sin and so is silence. There's no salvation for Dan right now. He's melodramatic and he doesn't give a flying fuck.

Fury builds in him, impotent and righteous. He'll never act on it and it feeds on itself and sickens him. He thinks of the certificate and wants to tear it into pieces.

He stares at his hands, takes ten long, shaking breaths. His fury dissipates.

He reaches for his phone. Picks it up. Slides it open. Scrolls to Phil's name in his messages. _We need to talk._

There's only a few seconds before Phil responds. _Did you want me to come to your room?_ Dan's fingers shake only slightly as he taps out a reply.

 _Yeah, sure._ Two words that are going to cement their night tonight, whether it be fighting, subdued dissonance so the neighbours don't hear this conversation, or some kind of peace between them that Dan can't imagine actually happening because it could never be that easy for them.

There's the sound of Phil's door squeaking open that he can hear through the walls and then the rattle of Dan's knob. Shit, that's right, he locked it.

“I presume you don't want us to talk through your door?” Phil asks, voice soft on the other side, trying to make a joke. Dan wants to scream. Phil needs to not joke. This is resoundingly not a joking time.

He crosses the room in three long strides and unlocks the door, twists the knob and pulls it open as he steps back. There's Phil, wearing a pale blue t-shirt that matches his eyes and his Cookie Monster pyjama pants.

Phil steps inside as Dan steps back, matching his movement step for step, until Dan reaches his bed and sits on it. He doesn't offer Phil a spot next to him, intentionally putting his legs across the bed enough that Phil's forced to sit in the butt chair.

Neither of them seems to want to speak first and a few seconds turns into thirty turns into several minutes, Phil coughing awkwardly. Dan wants to cough with him. It rises in his throat and his eyes water from wanting to cough, the tickle right there in his throat, but he swallows it down and makes no noise.

Dan's never said he's not one for dramatics at time. After all, he did drama in school for years. He can play a scene as well as anybody and right now, his scene is that of steadfast silence and refusal to show any weakness.

He doesn't know what Phil will do if he does show weakness so he waits for the bow to bend and snap under the pressure and Phil's the bow.

Phil, of course, gives in after only a minute more. “Okay, so, talking,” he starts. When he gets stressed, he goes a bit more northern. Right now, he sounds about as northern as he's ever sounded, like when he first started vlogging.

If Dan wasn't in the mental state he was in right now, he might actually find it almost charming.

“So, obviously we made a mistake in Vegas,” Phil begins. “Tyler and Chris had too much to drink with us and we obviously did something more than a bit stupid.”

Trust Phil to say it gently, to not say what it really is, which is a monumental colossal mistake.

“We get it annulled.” Dan speaks abruptly. “That's all we have to do. It'll be some forms to sign and a grand mistake in our past and we never tell anybody and we move on from it.”

He thinks about how Phil has talked about marriage in the past. Phil's a romantic at heart and he believes in true love and marriage being forever, when you find the one you want to be with. He believes in sharing all your hopes and dreams and making a life and future together.

Phil believes in all the good things that marriage entails. He's never thought any other way, even when he was younger and more naive, he still held the idea that marriage was forever.

Most people only ever plan on getting married once, aside from maybe a few people who marry for the money to some old geezer, but Phil is like the essence of that, where he's stated that he would try every day to remember why that marriage meant something, to find a way to see its importance in every single day somehow.

To be honest, Dan's not quite as bad as Phil but he still holds the same ideals, that marriage should last forever, you should find the one you want to be with forever and on days when it's tough, find a way to remember why you're there.

But of the two of them, Phil's more of the romantic and now he's married and it means nothing. Dan slides his hand under the sheets so Phil can't see and digs his fingernails into the flesh of his palm until they bite and hurt and he refuses to grit his teeth, to show any discomfort so Phil doesn't notice.

He realises he's still wearing the ring. His eyes flick over to Phil's hand where the same ring still sits as well. He thinks his heart should hurt. Right now, all he feels is seething, silent frustration.

“Are you sure it's valid?” Phil asks. “I mean, you were studying law...” He trails off.

Dan snorts at that. “I didn't exactly get around to drunken marriages in Vegas, Phil. That wasn't a common topic of study.” His tone is acerbic and Phil's gaze lowers, his hands come apart and rest at his sides, curling around the white plastic of the chair, as if Dan physically struck out at him.

“PJ said it was valid. I haven't done the research but apparently if we filled out paperwork to, I don't know, transfer the marriage from the US to the UK, yeah, it'd be valid still, so I'm assuming that technically, we're married.” Dan says.

“So... we get it annulled.” Phil repeats what Dan's suggested. “How long does that take?”

“The fuck if I know,” Dan says sharply. “Probably months. Divorces aren't exactly easy. I'm guessing getting it annulled isn't going to be a walk in the park. What do you think?” He can feel himself taking it out on Phil, hear it in his tone.

Phil still tries to keep things calm. “Okay, well. Do you have any friends from law school you can talk to and get information about how to get this all started?”

“I don't _want_ my friends from law school to know about this.” Dan says it almost before Phil's finished speaking, gritting it out from between his teeth. “I want as few people to know about this as possible.”

“Can you find someone on your own then?” Phil asks, and his tone is now sliding into not so gentle.

“I can. You could also look too, just in case I don't know what I'm looking for. We both made the mistake.” Dan shoots back. “You were more sober than me, probably. One would think you had the brains to stop it.”

Though this isn't necessarily true. Phil's a bit more of a light-weight than Dan and although he drank less than Dan, he still had a decent amount and it's actually possible – no, probable – that he was further gone than Dan was. Dan just wants to pretend that it was his fault as little as possible.

It seems this accusation is enough for Phil to finally snap at Dan. “Stop treating me like a child, Daniel!” He never uses Dan's full name. Dan can literally count on his hands the amount of times that Phil has called him that.

“I'm not treating you like a child,” Dan shoots back. “I'm treating you like an adult. After all, adults are the ones who need to get marriages annulled, aren't they? If I was treating you like a child, I'd be spelling it out for you in little words.”

He's rarely on the receiving end of one of Phil's glares. Phil is terrible at comebacks but when he's angry, he does angry really well. Right now, this is a level of pissed off Phil that Dan hasn't seen in years and never aimed at him.

“Stop talking down to me,” Phil tells him slowly, each word enunciated carefully. “You're treating me like I'm an idiot and I don't appreciate it at all. Neither of us was in any state of mind for what happened. We'll do whatever we have to do to convince whoever needs convincing of that and we'll get this taken care of. But I'm not the only one who was in this so don't act like I should be the only one to try and fix this.”

Everything in Dan is taut and ready to fracture and that tiny bit of hate he had for Phil the day before is sickening to him because he has never hated Phil and he still doesn't but he's furious and self-righteous and he stares at his phone pointedly.

“You do your research and I'll do mine.” He says flatly. “I don't feel like talking anymore. Close the door behind you.” He doesn't look up at Phil.

Phil sits there a minute longer before finally standing. “Is this going to screw us all up?” He asks carefully.

Dan has no answer for that. He thinks back to 2012, to his constant pissiness and flying off the handle at people about whether Phan was real. He thinks to how Phil had started to retreat from him and it was only after months later, when he realised how close he was coming to losing his best friend to his own desperate need for heteronormativity, that he'd started to lay off.

He thinks about breaking down his own boundaries, his own walls that he'd built up, until he'd been able to rebuild their friendship, taking the foundations and restructuring them until they were stronger than ever.

Until he'd been able to laugh and state he was Phil trash number one, to where they danced together at the Brits, scripted but knowing what it would lead to, the rising rush of their fans freaking out and Dan hadn't flinched (too much).

Their tour, their book, their app, their radio show, all the hard work they'd done over the last couple of years, building up not only the image of DanandPhil together but their friendship, building more than just foundation, sealing cracks and reinforcing it with new memories, all the good things they'd done.

Cementing home everything that was important to him, and everything that was important to him was Phil. Phil, who had been by his side for years, through his university drop-out and his existential crises and moving in together, through Dan freaking out over the Valentine's video prank gone wrong, and then once Dan had started to realise what was important, Phil, who had never failed him and always been there for him.

He doesn't want to lose that, no. He's always been afraid there'll come a point, something will happen, that no matter how strong their friendship, there will come something that finds the weak spot, chiseling away at it until it all comes crumbling down.

He hopes to god this isn't it. He's silent as Phil leaves the room, not getting the answer he's looking for.


	3. Chapter 3

Dan googles “annulment services” and sits there, staring at the results. He can't quite bring himself to click one of them yet, as desperately as he wants to get out of this, because clicking them, actually taking this next step forward, will really cement home that it's real.

It's, for once, not because he's just excellent at procrastinating. It's because he thinks, for as shocked and drained as he is from the last two days, this is going to hit him all over again in a new way and he's not sure he's prepared for yet another wave of _fucking hellshit I can't believe this actually happened cock arse wank and piss_ to go through his brain. 

He's sat there, just staring, when his phone rings. It's his mum and he hasn't talked to her since he got back and she's probably worried about him. He can't put off talking to her because he should have called when they got back.

He can lie away that he was fighting off jet lag maybe for the first night but he should have called today so he answers it.

“Hello, mum,” he says, trying to mask his frustration and tiredness.

“Hello, darling. How was your trip? Did you get home alright?” She asks.

“Got home fine, sorry I didn't call.” He doesn't know how to answer the first question so he tries to ignore it. Not that it's going to be able to be ignored. She's going to want to know what happened.

Sure enough, she presses it again. “And Vegas? Do anything fun?”

Dan can't hardly breathe. He realises he's going to have to tell her. It's going to have to come out at some point – there's no way he can keep it private. “Not exactly. Drank too much the last night and-” He chokes here.

“Daniel?” She asks, sounding concerned. “Did you get sick?”

He doesn't feel twenty-five. He feels about twelve and he wants his mum there to hold him and tell him that everything's going to be okay. “Made a huge mistake.” He bites out. He drags in a breath and it feels like a stone in his stomach, aching in a knot.

“What did you do?” She sounds nothing but concerned for him.

“Oh fuck, I can't believe I did this,” Dan says and she must know something's up because she doesn't even call him on his swearing. “Phil and I, we got married.”

There's a long silence on her end of the phone as Dan is, sure enough, flooded with another wave of disbelief and almost terror at the knowledge of what they did.

“D'you – you mean you've been dating? Because you know we've asked and you told us you weren't.” She sounds incredibly confused.

“We're not dating,” Dan tries to explain.

“Because if you are, it's alright by me, you know I'd still love you. But you getting married, I would have wanted to be there. Your father and I.”

“No, mum, it wasn't like that,” Dan says, frustrated and frantic. “I mean we were incredibly drunk and I have no memory of it happening but we're not dating, we're not anything like that. It was an accident.”

She's quiet again for a long time and Dan doesn't know what to say, so he just sits there and he can faintly hear Phil across the hall talking, and he wonders distantly who Phil's talking to.

“What are you going to do?”

Dan shrugs before realising that his mum can't see him. “I dunno. Get it annulled hopefully. I'm not sure what paperwork we'd have to do since it happened in the US but I figure that the faster I hop on it, the better.”

“I just can't believe you'd do this,” his mum says quietly. “This is a big mistake. A really big one. I mean – if you're getting it annulled, then you're really telling the truth that there's nothing going on between you and Phil?”

“No, god, no. Phil's just my best friend.” Dan says. He hopes fervently that that's going to stay true. He's going to actually murder himself if he's fucked that up with his stupidity.

It seems neither of them really know where to take the conversation and after a few more minutes of awkward mumbling, Dan finally announces to his mum that he's going to let her go and get on with whatever he has to do next and she lets him go, sounding equally as flustered.

He does request that she not tell anybody besides his father and she assures him that's not going to happen, sounding kind of flat there. He thinks she might be slightly peeved at him. More than slightly would be more than fair, so the fact that she hasn't chewed him out is actually quite nice.

He can still hear Phil talking when he hangs up and doesn't intrude, doesn't try to hear who it is. Instead, he tries to distract himself by actually looking at the first few links for “annulment services”, wondering if he should wait until Phil's available to ask him to come look with him so they can decide together.

This is all so fucking stupid, this is all so complicated and Dan hates the mistake he's made.

Yeah. He'll wait until Phil's done. It wouldn't be right to just go ahead and decide on who they're going to visit to get the process started. This is Phil's decision because of Dan's mistake.

Somehow, even though Phil was probably just as drunk as Dan, it doesn't feel like Phil's the one who made the mistake. Even though Dan was furious with him before, it was only anger at himself. He can admit that now.

Phil doesn't make big mistakes like this. He had to be plastered to go along with this without fighting. He had to be rat-arsed, utterly and wholly. Dan, however. Dan's full of mistakes. Look at his little idiotic decision to go to law school which led to his kind of major mental breakdown. Sure, it led to the fact that he was able to do Youtube full time and he doesn't regret it but maybe had he been smarter, he could have avoided the breakdown entirely.

Dan's good at mistakes. That much he knows. He's angry again but angry at himself, bitter at yet another Dan Howell classic fail.

There's nothing he can do, either, to get his brain off this. He opens up iTunes and puts on music, trying to distract himself, turning it up to full volume and stuffing his headphones on, hoping he can drown out his brain, but he can barely pay attention to the music.

He contemplates buying a new video game, something he knows nothing about so he can try to lose himself in that, but ultimately decides against it. Feels frivolous, spending money on something he doesn't need when he's now got to go about getting an annulment.

This stupid fucking marriage is affecting everything about him.

He's so busy lost in his thoughts that he doesn't notice about a half an hour passes and Phil enters his room. Dan's got his eyes shut, music still blasting, and he's trying to daydream, thinking about what it would be like to be a space explorer.

He jumps about a foot when Phil taps his knee and jerks upright from where he's lying, hitting the spacebar on his keyboard to pause the music and taking his headphones off.

“Hey,” Phil says, sounding awful and guilty. “So I just got off the phone with my mum and then Martyn. I told my mum what happened and she got really upset with me. Like, loads more upset than I've ever heard her before, lecturing me about the importance of marriage and how foolish I was.”

Dan supposes that's where Phil gets his thoughts on marriage from. He can only imagine how disappointed Phil's mum is, not just in Phil but in Dan, and that makes him feel so incredibly guilty himself because the Lester family has always treated him as an extended family member, from the first time they met him on because of how important to Phil he'd become so quickly.

“And just … we kept rehashing the same information, she kept going on and on about how foolish I was and the mistake I made,” and Dan wants to interrupt Phil and tell him that Phil didn't make the mistake, it was all on Dan and maybe even more so on Chris and Tyler, he wants to soothe Phil somehow to get the anguish off Phil's face.

“So after a while with her, I didn't know what to do so I let her go and then I called Martyn and asked him what to do, if he had any advice.” Phil continues. “And he told me maybe that we shouldn't rush into getting the annulment – that we should get it done, but obviously we're probably both really stressed and it might be better for our friendship and the situation if we just sort of suck it up and wait a few weeks until we're not quite as confused and then get around to it.”

That actually makes sense. It almost brings Dan's brain down to a normal level of worrying instead of the frantic worrying he's been doing since he hung up with his mum.

“Yeah, I think he's right,” he has to admit, a little shakily. “For the sake of our friendship. I've been worried about how this is going to affect us.”

“Yeah, me too, of course,” Phil says, sounding so earnest, so like Phil. Phil, who is sometimes so well-intentioned and sincere about life that it hurts Dan's heart. Phil, who at twenty-nine still meows on occasion just to make Dan smile, who loves every fan when they come up requesting a hug, who still can see the world through rose-tinted glasses.

This is entirely not fair on Phil, more than it's entirely not fair on Dan, and Dan wants to find some way to make it up to him.

“Come on, let's go play some Mario Kart. Let's have something steady in our life, anyways, yeah?” Dan suggests. “Something familiar? Something we don't have to think too hard about? We can prove our friendship will get through this in a few weeks time.”

Phil leans forward and presses himself against Dan, hugging him. Phil's always been the more tactile of the two of them when it comes to showing fondness. Dan's earned countless hugs from him over the years and while Dan's not one to _deny_ Phil a hug, he's also not one to as easily give them. He likes to show his appreciation through littler things, a mug of coffee brought freshly made to Phil or buying Phil a new pack of stickers for decorating his laptop and, equally as often, their flat.

Dan sits there, overthinking things as usual. They're married – does that make hugs between them strange now? Because now Phil's his husband. Do they have to start sleeping in the same bed? Is hugging Phil weird now because of the associations that come with marriage, of what happens between a married couple at night between the sheets?

“You're thinking too hard,” Phil whispers. “Just hug me back, you pillock.”

As usual, Phil knows Dan better than he knows himself. He knows what Dan's brain is thinking and so Dan just reaches up finally, letting his arms fall loosely around Phil's shoulders, squeezing gently.

“Mario Kart sounds good,” Phil agrees when he pulls back.

But now that they've decided to hold off on getting the annulment for a few weeks, Dan's brain is busy going to new topics related to marriage.

If Phil holds true the ideal of what marriage should be about after the ceremony, Dan's always held strong that the ceremony itself was important. He thinks about that as he follows Phil into the lounge.

He always wanted the ceremony to be perfect. Perfect music, perfect decorations, perfect catering, perfect venue. He knows it's cheesy. It's not like he's given a _lot_ of thought to it, seeing as he's never been in a relationship that was headed down that road, but on the few times that he's talked about marriage with Phil, he's always talked about how he wanted everything to be just right at the ceremony.

Inside, he feels the tiny, bleak reminder, the lack of memory of the event, but knowing it was probably cheap and tacky, something barely above a drive-through wedding chapel, rushed and harried and absolutely the opposite of what he'd want.

Good job, Dan. Great job, as usual. Keep tallying up those mistakes you made in one night.

He looks at Phil, who probably feels even more guilty than Dan, because Phil feels like he's let down his family, and Phil would never want to let anybody down. Dan feels guilty when he lets someone down, sure, but he usually doesn't let it linger, just accepts that it sucks and he'll do his best to make it up to them.

Phil, though, he does linger. He lingers on whatever he's had to break a promise on because he never agrees to something without wholeheartedly intending to go through with it. So he knows this has to be eating up Phil, who's letting down not just himself but his family and whoever else he's shared his personal views on marriage with, whether they know about this accidental marriage or not.

Dan watches Phil, who, although it's not uncommon for him to lose to Dan at Mario Kart, does even worse than usual, looking distracted. In fact, he comes in last place over and over and Dan _knows_ , he absolutely knows that Phil's not even paying attention.

So after about forty minutes of this, he pulls out an old tried and true trick that he can count on. “Buffy? Start from the top?” He tugs season one out of the box set that Phil owns.

“Cheap ploy,” Phil tells him, though not without some kindness. “Yeah, you can listen to me waffle on about how terrible the early episodes are and how much I love them anyways.”

“They're not so terrible. Just finding their footing.” Dan says. He's seen the series twice, Phil probably half a dozen times. “There are some good episodes in there. The one with, whatshisface, Owen, and the one where Angel reveals himself, plus the season finale, obviously.”

“Yeah, and the pilot's pretty good too. Just dated.” Phil admits.

So Dan slides in the first disc and sits next to Phil and they quite literally marathon through the entire first season, until they're finishing up the last episode. It's half past three in the morning at this point, when Buffy dies and gets revived by Xander and defeats the Big Bad of the season, and Dan's exhausted and his brain isn't quite working anymore.

Phil's in a state of half-asleep. He's mumbling comments about the episode but they don't really make sense. He's slumped, slid down on the sofa, and Dan can feel Phil's shoulders shoved into his.

He looks down at them, at their nearness. _Husband_ , he thinks sharply.

_Not uncomfortable_ , he thinks a moment later. He's used to Phil being like this. It's not like they haven't found themselves half-asleep practically on top of each other, Phil using Dan's shoulder as a pillow, Dan nodding off with his forehead practically in Phil's mop of black hair. 

Hell, there's been twice in his life where he's been so exhausted that he actually wound up using Phil's knees as a pillow. Not exactly the most comfortable, but when he was so tired that he found Phil's knobbly knees enough of a cushion to sleep on, it's got to say something about their closeness. 

He's a haze of confused, tired thoughts, reminiscing about their lives together that have brought them to this point, and that muddles together into thoughts about where they're going to go from here, and all he can think about is how frustrated Phil must feel, how disappointed Phil is going to feel when they take the first step to getting this annulled. 

Dan thinks about it and recognises that he'll feel disappointed as well – not out of wanting to stay married to Phil, but just out of the fact that he's made such a grand mistake. He doesn't want to see the disappointment that will write itself so clearly over Phil's face when he signs papers declaring himself unfit for marriage in whatever respect the court can find. 

Dan thinks that Phil is just about as far from unfit for marriage as anybody. Phil would give it all for someone he loved in marriage. 

His fingers drop to Phil's knee and squeeze gently and in his not-quite coherent state, Phil nudges his face into Dan's shoulder. “Buffy's nice,” Phil mumbles. “So brave. She tries so hard. Even when it calls for her to fail.” 

Dan closes his eyes. “She's brave,” he agrees. He's not sure his own thoughts are making sense anymore, because right now he's thinking about how brave Phil is. Phil's always been the braver of the two of them, to be honest. 

Phil, who convinced Dan to start his channel, who made an app, who helped write a book and host a radio show. Dan's been lucky to get the opportunities he's had and Phil hasn't had nearly the amount of recognition that Phil deserves. 

Sometimes Dan wishes he could make every single one of his subscribers also subscribe to Phil, watch his videos the minute he uploads them, because he's got twice the followers as Phil and it's truly not fair to Phil. 

“You're brave too,” he mumbles. He's mumbling nonsense, he knows it. It's so late and he can hear the faint wail of a siren outside and it's all just static-y noise in his brain. “Feel bad for you sometimes.” 

“Nn,” Phil yawns and here he slumps backwards, twisting, and Dan's shoulder is pressing between Phil's shoulder blades. “Why's that?” 

“You don't get nearly enough of what you deserve,” Dan mumbles again. “Never do.” He thinks distantly of what Phil deserves, which is not this sudden accidental marriage. He can feel the sort of dozey way his brain drifts from thought to thought, not quite connecting things, but the feelings it brings sinks down through him. 

Phil disappointing everybody he wants to make proud. Phil being disappointed in himself. Phil frustrated that he screwed up. 

Dan's talking before he knows what he's going to say. 

“Maybe we could just wait,” he starts tiredly, half-asleep. “Like, a year. Tell people we decided to see if it would work.”

“Whuh?” Phil groans, not budging from where he's using Dan as a prop to stay upright. The title screen of Buffy stares at them and Dan leans forward, dislodging Phil, automatically reaching with one arm to actually catch Phil and hold him up while he hits the power button on his laptop. 

“The annulment. We can wait for a year. It won't be like we're giving up then; we'll have tried at least. Just we don't have to do anything different than now. We live together and have a life together anyways. Just different tax information, right? Then after a year or so, we can go about getting it annulled or whatever.”

“Why?” Phil asks and Dan leans back and Phil turns again to face him, though he's not really awake and neither's Dan. Phil's head rests on the back of the sofa and Dan lets his head fall back so he can gaze at Phil's face, tilting his head sideways. 

“So you're not disappointed,” Dan murmurs. He doubts Phil understands what Dan means. “I know how important it is to you that marriage mean something. At least if we wait, it's not like we gave up immediately.”

He should stop talking immediately. It's late and he's not making sense to either of them. 

Phil watches him with eyes at half-mast, barely held open. “Wotsit then, a sham marriage?” He manages to blearily get out. 

“Yeah, we could just. For a year. Then it's off, we fix it, but at least we didn't end it immediately. You wouldn't have to be as guilty.”

Dan looks at Phil, wishing right then that their strange little psychic connection they occasionally seem to have would kick in so Phil could feel what Dan was feeling and then it would all make sense.

“Just want you to not feel guilty. You deserve better,” Dan says quietly, a little desperately. Phil closes his eyes for a long twenty or so seconds, making a little hmm in his voice. 

“Don't want to disappoint my family,” Phil agrees. “Don't want to look back at myself and say that I screwed up.”

Dan thinks they have screwed up and this is just the best decision they can make that might not leave them feeling as guilty. Because that's really what this is about. He doesn't want Phil to feel guilty and by association, if Phil doesn't feel guilty, then he won't feel as guilty. 

“Guess it could work. Not like I'm dating anybody.”

Dan wonders about that. What happens if they somehow meet someone? It's hard, what with ninety percent of their interactions with the opposite gender being fans and half the time, underage ones at that, where they never feel comfortable actually initiating a relationship, knowing there's a sort of power play that they have over their viewers. 

They can come to that if it happens. He's too tired to think about it right now. Right now, he's focusing on Phil shoving his fringe away from his face and sitting upright with a hefty sigh, as if it's the most difficult thing in the world. 

“Suppose that'd work.” Phil agrees. “Sounds better than immediately having to fix things. You're right. We can just go about things like we always do.” 

Dan falls silent now. He's not sure if he expected Phil to agree. He's not sure if he wants to go through with this. But he's not going to take it back and let Phil down now, so whatever drivel has come spewing out of his mouth, it's just a promise he's going to have to keep. 

“We should head to bed.” Dan says, for lack of anything else to say. “Talk about this more in the morning.” 

“Want pancakes in the morning. Proper American fluffy pancakes. Way better than British pancakes.” Phil yawns at him, breath borderline stale in Dan's face. 

“C'mon,” Dan grunts as he stands and hooks an arm under Phil's armpit and hauls him forcibly upright. “Walk to your own room, you weigh a fucking ton.”

Phil rubs his eyes. “Remind me to take out my contacts?” He asks. “Gonna brush my teeth first. Might forget.”

“In the two minutes between starting to brush your teeth and finishing?” Dan asks, resoundingly tired and genuinely disbelieving Phil. 

Phil blinks at him beguilingly and Dan finds himself following Phil into the bathroom, reaching for his own toothbrush and squeezing a dollop of toothpaste on it, sticking it under the faucet to wet the bristles and stuffing it in his mouth. 

Phil yawns again, hugely, scrubbing his teeth with his own toothbrush and he slumps into the wall, eyes falling shut, head knocking into the wall loud enough to thud and Dan wonders if it hurt. 

A minute later, Phil hunches over and spits foam, rinses his mouth out and yeah, he's about to leave when Dan catches him at the elbow. “Contacts, are you fucking serious right now, mate?” 

“Oh. Yeah, thanks,” and Phil's not even opening his eyes. Dan watches in morbid fascination. As someone who's never needed contacts, it always holds his interest the way that Phil pops the little polymer discs out of his eye like it's no big deal, or the way Phil puts them in. 

It just seems so weird, sticking something in your eye, but after years of wearing them, Phil doesn't even flinch as he presses his thumb and index finger to the tip of his eye and squeezes them together, catching the contact lens and pulling it out, dropping it in the case, repeating the process for his other eye, squirting saline on them and twisting the caps on the case. 

“Bed,” Phil mumbles. Dan watches as he trails his hand along the wall, up the stairs to the hallway to their bedrooms, guiding himself through blurry vision and eyes that are still barely cracked open. 

“G'night, Phil,” Dan says quietly as he stands in the frame of his doorway. “Talk tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Mm. Bed,” Phil repeats. Dan takes that as assent. He crawls into his own bed, shucking off his pants, tugging his shirt off, and finally sliding under the covers. He thinks he should be freaking out over what he's decided. 

He's actually, thankfully, too tired for that right now. His brain goes out as fast as his head hits the pillow. He sinks into blackness that swims behind his eyelids and his thoughts disappear before they can even form.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this could be renamed "The Mistake" or "Dan Has A Guilt Complex 2k16"

Dan awakens and doesn't immediately remember what they talked about. He has a blessed minute of peace as he wakes up and heads to the loo to have a slash when, mid-piss, it actually comes back to him and his eyes go from half-lidded and still barely coherent to _I actually fucking agreed to stay married to Phil_.

He's hit by a wave of cold shock and shudders it off, washing his hands. He wonders if Phil is up and if Phil remembers the conversation at all.

Washing off his hands, he peers into Phil's room a minute later. Phil's still sound asleep, snoring.

Dan can't take it back. He regrets saying what he said last night in a way because it's way too much, it's something they should never do, but now he can't take it back, he can't hurt Phil that way, and this is just a thing that's going to have to happen.

He's going to be married for a year.

He stares at Phil as he thinks about this. At least it's going to be to Phil, if he has to do a sham marriage, because it won't change much. They'll probably just go about things the way they always do and it'll be a little awkward for the year until they get it annulled or divorced.

Will it be divorce by then? They'll have to get all the forms for whatever it takes to get the marriage legalised in the UK as well filled out. Dan can't remember, suddenly, what would make it different between annulling the marriage and getting a divorce.

He's forgotten everything about law that he studied at all. Mainly because he's a little panicked now. He has to be a husband, technically. It means nothing in the end, at the same time.

He's not sure whether or not he should be disappointed. He thinks about it for another minute. He never wanted to be a failure of a husband. He never wanted this, though, to be honest.

This is all asking for an existential crisis to happen if he doesn't direct his train of thought away – is this meaningless, what in his life has true meaning, is he making Phil's life less meaningful by doing this.

So instead, he thinks about what a good husband would do. He imagines waking up to someone else, someone he loves, and what he'd want to do while they were asleep to make them happy.

He could make breakfast. So he resolves to do that. He's going to try his best to make this at least meaningful and full of as little regret as possible for Phil, for both of them.

Phil mentioned pancakes last night. He remembers that. Proper, fluffy pancakes.

Dan googles “fluffy pancake recipe”, browses until he finds one he likes. Chocolate chip pancakes. That sounds good and unhealthy and Phil would love it. Although the recipe doesn't call for chocolate chips, all he has to do is throw them in there.

He sets about mixing ingredients in bowls, following the recipe until he's got a thick mess of batter. He preheats the pan and pours in the first few pancakes, trying to avoid little driblets of mess as he tilts the bowl back up, dropping in a sprinkling of chocolate chips in each one.

He waits until bubbles are forming in the pancakes and the edges are just curling up slightly and he slides the spatula underneath, tests them. They're almost ready to be flipped but not quite.

Dan hums to himself as he waits, feeling almost pleased with himself. He's doing something that will make Phil happy and right now, that's so important to Dan. He flips the pancakes and looks at the golden-brown of them.

When he's made all of the pancakes, full of chocolate chips, he sets them aside and puts them in the microwave because Phil still isn't up and he's going to make them some bacon. He stopped his veganism a while back and he suspects the smell of frying bacon will wake Phil.

Plus, chocolate chips and bacon – it'll be the best breakfast ever. He washes out the pan he used to make the pancakes and sets it back down on the stove, throwing in six slices of bacon.

Dan lets the bacon sizzle in the pan, flipping it with a fork, and the smell of bacon permeates the room. Sure enough, a few minutes later, though it could be coincidence as it's nearing noon, Phil wanders into the room.

“Making breakfast?” He asks.

“Made you fluffy chocolate chip pancakes too,” Dan announces. Phil pauses and blinks and smiles a little.

“You actually remembered last night and decided to make me pancakes?” Phil asks.

“I actually remembered,” Dan confirms. “Everything we talked about. You still in?” He asks. The bacon's done and he turns the microwave on for thirty seconds to heat up the pancakes, getting out the syrup from the cabinet for them.

“Yeah. I think I'm still in.” Phil says. He looks at Dan for a long, lingering moment and then walks across the kitchen and as Dan's transferring bacon from the pan to plates, he wraps his arms around Dan tightly for the second time in as many days.

“Thanks for breakfast,” Phil says. “I appreciate it.” His voice is muffled faintly by the fact that the side of his mouth is pressed to Dan's skull and Dan can feel the ruffle of his hair slightly as Phil's breath lifts and tickles it.

“Get off,” he says, even as he reaches up and hugs back Phil, not letting Phil go for a second.

They're going to do this and he's terrified. He kind of needs Phil right at that second to steady himself.

The microwave beeps at him a few seconds later. “Should have some warm, fluffy pancakes now,” Dan says quietly. “You get first pick of them.”

“So why'd you make pancakes for me?” Phil asks as he plucks the plate out of the microwave and selects several of the largest pancakes for himself, pouring syrup over them, pushing his bacon away from the stream of syrup as it drips off them.

“I...” Dan starts out and hesitates. “I wanted to be nice to you is all,” he lies. Not a good husband for the year. Just 'nice'.

“Well, I'm glad you wanted to be nice to me. Think it'll happen more often?” Phil jokes.

“Maybe,” Dan agrees. Already, he's planning on what to make them for dinner. He's thinking Mexican. Soft shell tacos and some kind of rice. He knows Phil likes tacos.

God, he really doesn't know why this is so important to him but it is and he's going full-out with it.

They take their breakfasts into the lounge, Dan bringing kitchen roll with them so they can dab at their mouths when they get syrup-y, and they turn on the TV. Dan kind of wants to rewatch Free! and Phil's willing so that's what they do while they eat, then they set their plates off to the side and watch a little more.

Eventually, Dan winds up gathering up their plates and going into the kitchen and washing everything up and when he comes back, Phil's busy playing Plague, Inc., having recently bought it and gotten addicted to it, as he does half the games he buys for his phone.

Smiling a little as Phil mutters to himself about “C'mon, infect Russia,” Dan starts a load of laundry and then calls as he's pouring detergent into the little area where you pull it out to pour, “Hey, Phil, need me to do any laundry? I'm already doing mine so I'll do yours if you'd like.”

“Uh, yeah. If you really want. It's in my closet.” Phil calls back. He sounds confused and Dan can't really blame him. Dan doesn't exactly offer to do his laundry for him, well, ever.

But Dan dutifully goes into Phil's room and gathers the hamper of clothing and brings it out to where the washer and dryer are and sets it down as a reminder to himself when he changes out his load before returning to where Phil is, though now he grabs his laptop and turns it on.

Phil normally sits right next to Dan as they do their thing throughout the day but today, he actually keeps the space between them on the couch. It's a silent reminder that things are a little weird no matter what they do.

An hour rolls by and Dan hears the washer beep, gets up and switches out the load, throwing his in the dryer and Phil's in the washer, going back and picking up his laptop where he left off.

He's on Tumblr and people are clamouring to post information or video from Vegas, since he denied them last time and with a sigh, he goes to Twitter. _vegas is a curse i tried to upload the footage and its corrupted_ he posts, a blatant lie.

Phil frowns a few minutes later. “Why am I getting all these people asking me what happened in Vegas and if I have any footage if yours is corrupted?”

“Just … I deleted the entirety of the footage from my camera,” Dan says. “I'm not uploading it. It'd just be a reminder of our mistake.”

Phil frowns more sharply. “I have a bit of footage. I can upload it if you don't mind. You don't want any memory of what happened?”

“You do?” Dan asks, a bit more sharply than he intends.

“I mean, aside from the last night, it was pretty good. You didn't want to show even part of it and say just part of the footage got corrupted so there's nothing from the last night?” Phil asks.

“I don't want anything on the internet from Vegas. You know as well as I do that the phangirls will twist anything into a relationship between us and given what happened, if any word whatsoever gets out, we're fucked. So no, I'd prefer if you deleted it all.”

“That's just going to look suspicious if word does somehow get out,” Phil protests. Dan shoots him a very definite look of anger. “Fine, fine, I'll delete it!”

“Thank you. I know we're not going to end this for a year but still, I don't think either of us want any memory of what happened. I'm almost glad I drank so much that I don't remember.” Dan says in frustration.

He ignores the strange look on Phil's face. He ignores the twist in his own stomach because he doesn't trust it to be true or not because even though he regrets getting married, he wishes he knew what it was like in a way. Just a little. He doesn't know which urge is stronger, the urge to remember or the urge to be glad he can't.

Later, he puts Phil's clothes in the dryer and puts away his own, taking out beef to defrost and make tacos with in a bit. He's starting to get just slightly hungry and makes a bag of popcorn, pouring half in a bowl and handing it over to Phil.

“Popcorn!” Phil says with delight. “Thanks, Dan.” Dan just nods at him and throws back a handful into his mouth, crunching down on it loudly. There's more silence between them and it's strange, Dan's not even telling Phil to go check out something he's reblogged or linking him anything on Skype.

But even though this strange silence has fallen over them, he's still focused on being a good “husband”. It's why he's doing Phil's laundry and brought him popcorn, is making him foods that Phil likes.

Every now and then he can see, out of the corner of his eye, Phil looking at him and Dan resolutely does not look up and match his gaze. He's afraid of what Phil might look like if he does.

Instead, he waits until the dryer goes off again and he actually folds Phil's clothes although he doesn't put it away – Phil can do that – and goes back, collects the empty bowls, washes them out despite Phil's protest of “I would have done that, Dan.”

He wonders how much of this is sheer guilt. He feels so guilty that Phil's been forced into this situation. He hasn't kept a journal in years but right now, he's itching to write down all his thoughts and spill them out so they're not buzzing around in his head.

He goes in his room and finds a notebook with just a few pages written in it, rips them out of the front, sits down, dates it.

_June 14 th, 2016_

_Two days after The Event. The Event In Which I Got Accidentally Drunken Married To Phil. TEIWIGADMTP. It's not a very good acronym._

_We did some talking after we did some fighting and we're going to stay married for a year. So far today, I've made him pancakes that he likes, did his laundry, made him popcorn and washed the dishes, and am making tacos for dinner because I know he likes it._

_I would venture a guess that about 90% of this is because I feel guilty. Even though he was just as drunk as me, if not more so, Phil isn't the type to get drunken accidentally married. I was the one telling him that he had to take shots with me. If it wasn't for me, he would have been sober enough to tell Chris and Tyler to stuff it._

_I'm the reason this all happened. I'm to blame. So I'm going to try and make things right for a year until we manage to fix this. That's what this comes down to._

_I don't even know why I'm writing this. It's not like writing this changes anything. I feel like I need to get the words out but they don't change the situation and it's going to just keep playing in my head over and over._

_Fuck. Fuck this and fuck in general._

He closes the notebook and stuffs it into his closet again. He's not sure he's ever going to use it again. Who knows. Maybe it'll be like ninety-five percent of his other diaries and New Years Resolutions that he keeps for about five days and then abandons.

Still not in shape. That's one thing he gave up on, getting in shape, working out regularly. Hell, he and Phil had barely done any jogging even when they tried to work out together. It just faded away until they were two lazy sloths sitting on the couch side by side again, one of them suggesting going for a run and the other saying, “Nah, tomorrow”, the first agreeing. That had gone on for five days until it stopped being spoken and just fell to the wayside.

He stays in his room, reading. He kind of wants a break from his laptop and needs space from Phil. Literal physical space. For the first time in his life, he doesn't miss Phil after not seeing him for several hours.

It's almost embarrassing that they've had days where after ten or twelve hours without seeing each other, they're actually like, “Hey, tell me what happened with you all day”, and it's earnest and they genuinely missed each other, but right now, he can't be more grateful for the time apart because being near Phil just feels like a reminder of his mistake.

All he can think about is his mistake.

Eventually, when it's late enough that he can start dinner but early enough that Phil won't have started it himself, Dan wanders into the kitchen and fries up the beef, takes out a separate pan and starts the fried rice, simmering it in butter and then adding the bagged spices and the requisite water, and then in a third pan toasts six soft taco shells until they're a little crispy.

Phil doesn't wander into the kitchen at the smell of cooking food this time and instead, Dan fills up three tacos with the pan-fried beef, adds cheese to them – Phil can tolerate cheese in tacos, amazingly – microwaves them until the cheese has melted into the beef, and adds generous helpings of rice, bringing them to Phil, who has not moved save for using the loo in the last seven hours.

“Dinner,” Dan announces. It's earlier than they usually eat but his nerves are shaken and he had to do something, make sure he cooked before Phil did.

Phil takes it, giving him a strange look. Dan ignores it. He's going to just eat in silence and wait until Phil's done and then he's going to go back in the kitchen and wash up the huge amount of mess that's left, take out the trash, come back in, and let the rest of the night seep by in a tired haze of frustration.

He waits until Phil's done, yes, and takes the plate, and he's washing up everything when Phil comes in the kitchen, saying softly, “Dan?” and Dan ignores him, holds up a soapy hand and waves him away, intentionally spattering water towards Phil that's meant to make him sod off for now.

Phil takes the hint, as usual, and while he lingers for a moment, eventually he disappears out of the corner of Dan's vision. Dan scrubs at pans longer than necessary, until his fingers cramp around the scrubber-thing, whatever they're called, _scour brushes_ , his brain supplies helpfully, and he squeezes it tighter as they cramp, digging into grease on the pan.

When he finally finishes cleaning up, his head has cleared and his fingers hurt.

He walks back into the lounge and Phil's waiting for him, on the computer but not actually paying attention, listening to Dan's steps and looking up the second Dan enters.

“What's up with you?” Phil asks. “You made me pancakes, you did my laundry, you made me popcorn, and you made dinner. I mean, individually, that wouldn't be a big deal, but you never do my laundry and you never make me basically everything I eat in a day.”

Dan shrugs. “Just wanted to.” He wants to change the topic as fast as possible.

Of course, it's never that easy. Phil presses on. “Dan?” His single word holds the question of “why?” and endless other words that Dan can read as easily as anything else for having lived with Phil this long.

“Because.” Dan says, long-sufferingly, a sigh heavy on his lips. Phil watches him and tilts his head, purses his lips, and it's not enough for Phil and Dan wants to let out a tiny, strangled noise of frustration.

He chokes it back, lets out only another sigh, even longer than the first. Phil presses on, presses him with a single hand to Dan's thigh, lifting an eyebrow and Phil might claim he can't wink but he certainly can express emotions through his facial expressions, lifting an eyebrow in a clear statement of _what are you thinking_ , befuddlement on his face.

“If we're gonna do this,” Dan stammers out. “I figured it'd be nicer if I was a decent husband,” and he stares at the floor and pretends like his words aren't some pathetic, shameful thing that he can barely get out.

He can tell he's flushing. He can feel it in his cheeks.

Phil shifts closer to him. It's the closest they've been all day and Dan stares at Phil's knee numbly. “I just figured you might want something nice,” Dan mumbles.

Phil leans into him, body warm, shoulder flush to Dan's. “You don't have to. I mean,” and here Dan interrupts him.

“I fucked up. I got us drunk. You're married because I was stupid and made us take shots, so the least I can do is be a decent husband for a year.” Dan says.

“Dan,” Phil says, his voice that of tired, hushed kindness, and Dan hates him a little for it. _Just be angry with me, just be frustrated. Stop being unfailingly kind and supportive. Show your actual goddamn feelings, stop hiding it away under the pretense of AmazingPhil for once._ His thoughts are sharp and frustrated.

He looks at Phil with wide, desperate eyes, as Phil says, “You don't have to do this,” and Dan protests, “I know, but yes, I do,” and Phil sighs, reaches over and touches Dan, actually touches him, fingers through Dan's hair, pushing it up into a fluffy half-quiff, more interaction than they've had in days.

“You don't have to,” Phil repeats. “We're not... I mean, we are, but it's not... it's not that big a deal.” It really is, though.

Dan thinks about how important marriage is to Phil. He thinks about wanting to have done it right and fucking it all up. “Yeah, it is. You don't get it. But maybe you will, in time,” he answers, pushing Phil's hand away from his hair.

It flops in his face and he peers at Phil under his fringe, daring him to push. Phil only offers a sigh and shoves his own fringe away, propping his face up by his forehead in his hand.

“Dan, please don't make yourself someone you're not,” Phil says softly. “We can... it's okay, we can just ignore it,” and Dan glares at him.

“Not making myself anything. Just being a good husband. Half the shit I do, I'd do anyways, now it's just more meaningful. So just let me.” Dan argues. “I mean, we live together, if we filmed a week in the life of us, I'd say at least seventy percent of our interactions would be domestic enough. So just stop arguing, okay? Let me be a decent husband.”

Phil laughs here. It's almost bitter and simultaneously it's a Phil laugh, sunshine and earnest. “Dan,” he answers. Biting it off at the corner of his response. “Are you sure?”

Dan thinks about a camera on him. He thinks of his vulnerability and everything that the future holds for the next year. He pastes a smile on his face as he pretends not to be overthinking things and finally forces out, “Completely. I feel like I should, anyways.” He holds the grin, pretending like everything is okay.

Phil tears at the walls, like he should have expected. “Dan, you don't have to.” His voice is soft, too careful, and it destroys Dan.

“I know, but I feel like I should,” Dan repeats.

Phil sighs. “Then I will too. We can both be husbands, right?”

“You shouldn't have to!” Dan protests. “You shouldn't have to try and be a good husband because you didn't ask for this.”

Phil tosses his head back and sighs wearily. “Dan,” he mutters at him. “Stop feeling so guilty. This was a mistake, but guilt isn't going to fix it. What you're saying is true – a good portion of what we do is domestic enough that actually putting a little more effort in isn't going to change much. I don't mind. You shouldn't be the only one putting in effort. It'll just make you grow bitter if you're the only one putting in the effort down the road. Don't tell me it won't, I know it will.”

That's probably true, Dan thinks. Most people would get bitter if they were the only person putting in effort. So he concedes to Phil.

“It'll just be nice,” Phil comments. “You know, having someone take care of you a little, having you take care of me more than normal. It won't change anything.”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees. He thinks about how much effort he put into Phil today and when he pushes the guilt away, how nice it was to make Phil happy with all those things. “Like today,” he says. “It was nice to know you were happy with me.”

This is the stupidest-sounding conversation they've had in a long time. He's squirming away from it and Phil's watching him with a gentle expression on his face. _It was nice to know you were happy with me_ , how fucking lame is that, Dan?

“Well, I appreciated it a lot,” Phil tells him and Dan is surprised at the flush of happiness that runs through him. Stop it, stop it, stop it, he tells himself. Stop assigning actual meaning to this, it's just for show, it's a sham marriage. Stop it.

“So from now on, we just go about things like we would if we were actually married, save for the whole kissing and stuff. Just how we'd take care of a spouse,” Phil says. “It'll make things a little easier and we'll be happy and I mean, it's nice having someone care about you. I know you care about me. And I care about you.”

“Ugh, I'm done talking about my feelings, Phil. It's gross,” Dan complains and Phil laughs. He shoves his forehead into Dan's shoulder, headbutting him, and leans away finally.

“Okay, Dan,” Phil says, letting the topic drop. “Don't feel too guilty, okay? We screwed up but we can fix this in time.”

Dan makes no promises, though. He does feel guilty. He can't stop it. This doesn't change anything about that. He keeps that silent and instead he tugs his laptop over to him. “Did you want to start season two of Buffy now?” He asks, instead.

“Yeah,” Phil says brightly, a smile touching his face. “Let's get on that rewatch.”

So that's where they start, and that's where they end up again for the better part of the night, side by side, watching the show find its footing, and Dan can distract his mind from the fact that they're now apparently in this together as partners.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note - all my fics are currently on hold - I wanted to post this chapter because I had it done, but my mother is currently in the hospital and unable to breathe on her own and as we're kind of having a crisis over that, I won't be updating or working on my stories until things are okay with her. ETA: also the weird formatting after quotation marks is unfixable for some reason

When Dan wakes up, it's to Phil shaking him awake. It's quarter to eleven and Phil's got a look on his face that's something between tense and eager puppy.

“Whuh?” Dan mumbles, rolling over face-first and stuffing his face into the pillow. “Whatchu want.” He's not quite asking a question, too tired to actually put effort into enunciation. Phil went to bed at three and Dan was up another hour until four so he'd like to sleep some more, thank you very much.

“Made you breakfast,” Phil says, sitting on Dan's bed next to him. “Since you made it yesterday. Thought it would be my turn. I gave omelettes a go.”

Omelettes do sound good. However, he knows his and Phil's cooking skill level. “You made omelettes,” Dan says, lifting his face up from the pillow and propping it up with one hand, leaning on his elbow.

“Well, I said I gave them a go. They're kind of an omelette, um, scramble.” Phil admits. “The flipping part didn't go according to plan.”

Dan smiles at that. Even though this is weird, having a husband who makes him breakfast, it's still Phil and that's something secure and safe and an omelette scramble is nothing more than he'd expect.

“Thank you,” Dan tells him. “What's in the omelette?”

“Just bacon and cheese. I didn't know if you'd want vegetables. But there's English muffins too. With a whole pound of butter waiting for you.” Phil jokes.

Dan actually feels his stomach churn at that memory. “Don't put me off my appetite.” He grumbles, but he sits up. He's shirtless, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs, and he kind of shoves at Phil.

“Gotta get dressed, can you leave the room?” Dan requests. Phil acquiesces and Dan changes, heads downstairs where Phil's covered two plates with cling film to keep them warm. Phil's also poured Ribena for Dan and Dan shifts uncomfortably.

It's kind and he appreciates it but it's a reminder that they're married and he's still not okay with that yet. He doesn't know if he ever will be. He just wants this year to be over with as fast as it can be.

He peels back the film from his plate and looks at the mess that is half-omelette and half-scrambled eggs, biting back a laugh. “You wanna eat in here or go watch something together?”

He doesn't really need to ask and they gather up their plates and make their way into the lounge, turning on the television, Phil going to the Free! DVD menu and selecting the next episode that they left off on.

As Dan eats, he looks at the silver ring on his finger, rubbing his pinky against it, feeling the smoothness of it, noting how cheap it looks. They didn't exactly have a ton of money on them in Vegas, so the rings must not have cost much. Probably the cheapest ones in the store.

He feels the anger inside him come bubbling back and he can't stop thinking about how once again, this is a sham marriage. It's not like he was in a rush to get married but when he got married, he wanted it to be right.

He pushes the ring with his finger, spinning it around slowly, and sets his plate off to the side, breakfast half-eaten, no longer hungry.

“Dan?” Phil asks. Dan rarely doesn't finish a meal. If he doesn't, he's usually sick or well on his way to getting sick. “Is the omelette not good?”

Phil actually sounds worried and Dan knows it's because he's trying to be good for Dan and that makes it all the more worse. They're pretending at a marriage that's fake and cheap and all he can mumble is, “Tastes fine, just not hungry.”

Even though Phil's been quite happily eating, he puts his fork down abruptly. “Yeah, no, me neither,” he says, and that's a lie. Dan doesn't know why Phil doesn't just go on eating. It's not like they have to finish breakfast at the same time.

But Phil takes their plates and carries them to the kitchen and Dan hears him cleaning up, washing things and putting them away, and Dan goes to Phil's room. Phil was the one to pack up the marriage certificate and sure enough, it's sitting on Phil's dresser, proclaiming the same thing as before, and as he stares at it, the border looks over the top and tacky and the script looks thin and generic.

He stands there, anger building up inside himself. He keeps shoving the ring around in circles on his finger, staring at the stupid certificate, and it's like all the nasty thoughts that he's been trying to push away start circling around themselves again.

He stands there until Phil comes in the room. “Dan? Did you want to finish the episode?” Phil asks quietly.

“No.” Dan answers flatly. “I don't.”

“Did you want to do something else together?” Phil asks, even more quietly. Like he's trying to judge Dan's mood and is a little worried.

“No. I don't want to do anything else together.” Dan bites out, not bothering to hide his anger. He's not angry at Phil but he's angry as hell right now and he has a complete disinterest in masking it.

“Can I do anything to help?” Phil takes a step forward and touches Dan's wrist. Dan twitches at that, fighting the urge to yank away.

“Go away.” He tells Phil. Phil doesn't though. Whether it's because he's Dan's best friend and worried or for some other reason, he doesn't. He needs to, because Dan's going to implode soon enough and Phil's going to get caught in the aftermath.

“Go away,” Dan orders him again and Phil sits down on his bed.

“Dan, come on, talk to me. Whatever it is, we're supposed to be in this together, remember?”

Fuck. That's why he's staying and not leaving. Because of this stupid marriage fucking shit and that's the breaking point for Dan.

“It's all a goddamn sham!” He snaps, turning. He glares at Phil who shrinks back at his fury but doesn't move from the bed. “This is a fucking lie and we're stuck in it. We should have never gone through with it, we shouldn't have to stick this out for a year!”

“Dan, if you really don't want to, we don't have to,” Phil says softly. He's trying to calm down Dan.

“No, we fucking have to,” Dan says, furious. “Because you can't let down your family and I don't want to force you to and this is the less shitty of two options.”

He twists the ring off his finger and holds it up. “But look what we're left with. Some cheap, crap marriage that we can't remember and a dumb, ugly certificate that looks like a twelve-year-old could have made it in Photoshop while playing around with some new font they downloaded and these rings,” and he clenches his fingers around the ring and before he knows what he's doing, he's chucking it away from himself and it bounces, lands somewhere.

“It's all cheap and in poor taste and it's like a bad joke and I don't have a memory of it and you do, somehow, which given you were drunker than me I have no idea how you do, but I don't have any memories of it and that makes it all the worse because if I was going to get married, I think like most people, I'd want to remember it.”

“Do you want me to tell you about it?” Phil asks cautiously. He doesn't move to retrieve the ring from wherever it's landed, just staring at Dan, who's still clenching his fingers in fury.

“No, I don't want to know about it. Because it's all going to be disappointing. If the concept of marriage means something to you, the concept of a wedding means a hell of a lot to me, I want the perfect marriage ceremony, I want it to be right and beautiful and with all my loved ones there and the perfect person for me. I want it to be decadent and memorable. Nothing about that night is any of those things, I can guarantee.”

Phil's quiet for a very long time. “You're right about that,” he says. “It was surreal. I mean – I didn't know what was happening, if it helps. I only remember bits of it. I remember thinking that at any point, the person marrying us would tell us we were too drunk for it and he wasn't going to go through with it. And then Chris practically pushed you to kiss me and obviously it wasn't very good and then it was over and-”

“Didn't I just fucking say I don't want to hear about it?” Dan snaps at Phil, glaring daggers at him. Phil silences himself. “Just. Fuck. I don't want any of this. I want this year over right now. This is all fucked up and garbage. This was the biggest mistake of my life.” He says forcefully. “I don't want to talk about it or hear about it or think about it and I'm forced to do that last bit all the time now.”

He storms out of Phil's room and across the hall into his own room.

He hears a noise a minute later and he knows Phil well enough to know what the sound is. It's the sound of Phil pushing down a watery whimper, the sound of him trying not to cry.

Dan's got angry tears in his own eyes and he hides his own choking noise as a cough, stuffs his face again into the pillow and lets himself go dizzy with lack of oxygen until his head swims and his thoughts start to disappear and he's under control again.

He sits up slowly. There's no more noises from Phil's room, just that one moment of weakness that Phil couldn't hide.

Dan's arms hurt for how tight he was clenching his fists. He's got half-moon crescents dug into his flesh of his palms, almost enough to break the skin. He stares at his hand, which is bare, and somehow that's worse than wearing the ring.

It's not Phil's fault. They're still in this and he hates it but they're in this and the ring at least represented that.

He gets up and Phil's not in his room anymore. At some point he must have crept out quietly, so he wouldn't bother Dan. Probably afraid of Dan at that point, and that's a kick in the arse to Dan that he scared his best friend with his anger.

Great, he's got Phil tiptoeing around him. That's like a step right below abusive spouse pretty much in his eyes, taking out his anger on Phil, shouting at Phil.

He's going to apologise. But first, he searches Phil's room for the ring. He can't find it. He knows the general direction he flung it and he checks under the bed, to see if it bounced there, in every single nook or cranny it might have landed, behind decorations in the room, but it's not there.

Great. He's lost the ring and now he's an even shittier spouse. His mood darkens further and he goes into his room, pulls out that journal.

_June 15 th, 2016_

_Just had an absolutely wonderful time. Was staring at the wedding ring while eating breakfast, got nice and furious about the situation, went up to Phil's room, shouted at him and threw the ring across the room. Can't find it now and now I have to go talk to Phil and apologise for treating him like shit._

_Wonderful start to day 2 of 365._

_It's not his fault the ceremony wasn't what I wanted. It's not his fault that I was so drunk that I let Chris and Tyler, who were also drunk, manage to push me into this situation._

_We were all drunken idiots but this isn't his fault. Phil doesn't deserve any of the anger that I so self-righteously threw at him._

_Guess it's time to go suck it up and talk to him._

Dan closes the journal, stuffs it away. He goes into the lounge where Phil is, on his laptop, doing something.

“I'm sorry I yelled at you. You didn't deserve any of that,” Dan announces. “It was shitty of me to do. You're not at fault here at all. I'm just so frustrated with this. And I know you're frustrated with it too, so I shouldn't be acting like I'm the only one who has a right to be angry.”

Phil looks up at him over his laptop. “It's okay, Dan,” he tells him honestly, gently.

Dan gives Phil a tired look. “Why do you have to be so understanding? Why can't you pick a fight back at me and yell at me? I probably deserve it after that little explosion on you.”

“Cos I get why you're angry?” Phil says. “You probably needed to shout it out.”

“Yeah, but it didn't change anything. I still want to shout about it,” Dan complains.

“Dan, you've shouted at me before when you were angry about something. I don't get that upset about it, do I?”

Dan thinks about the way he'd flipped out before his exam and how Phil had comforted him instead of getting angry at Dan for shouting at him. Dan hadn't really been shouting at Phil, just Phil got caught in the crossfire.

But still.

“You're my best friend, Phil,” Dan tells him, needing to make it up to him somehow. “I'm still sorry I shouted at you. I'll try not to do it again.”

Phil gives him a weak smile and Dan thinks about the noise, Phil crying very quietly, and finds himself crowding into Phil's space to give him a one-armed hug.

“I shouldn't have made you cry,” Dan mumbles.

“Didn't understand you, you're talking into my arm,” Phil says and Dan shakes his head.

“Nothing, no, ignore me.” He pulls back. “Just sorry for earlier.”

Phil nods and Dan thinks maybe he should leave Phil alone for a while. Phil looks downcast still, even if he's forgiven Dan, and so Dan goes upstairs to the office with his laptop, trying to get into a work state of mind.

Maybe he can make a video. Editing would definitely keep his brain from circulating the awful thoughts that keep trying to encroach. Planning what he wants to say will give him something else to think about.

So he stares at his list of ideas, picks one, starts to work out a general idea of the script he's going to say.

He inevitably gets distracted by Tumblr and Twitter after about an hour and winds up on there for a while.

Later, his phone chimes. _Dan, what do you want for dinner? I'm ordering chinese._

It's from Phil. _Sweet and sour pork and egg rolls plz_ , Dan sends back. _Thank you,_ he adds a second later.

_No problem. You're not in your room so I'm assuming you're in the office, working on a video? I can bring you your food when it gets here if you want._

Phil's too considerate for his own good. Really. Dan thinks to himself that at least if he's stuck in a fake marriage, he has someone who's actually going to be not hard to make it work for the time being.

He thinks to himself that whoever Phil does end up with, they're going to be lucky.

Sure enough, when the food arrives, Phil brings up the plate of pork and white rice and egg rolls to Dan and Dan, hungry from his half-ignored breakfast and no snacks all day, practically inhales the food.

The next few days pass awkwardly, slowly, but they pass, and after it becomes apparent that nothing's going to change, they're still Dan and Phil, Dan almost starts to ease into this fake marriage.

They take turns cooking each other meals and perhaps they're more attentive to each other's needs, but that's not a bad thing. The only thing that Dan finds himself needing to talk about is something that springs to his mind after he's spent three days staring at his ringless finger on and off.

“I feel like such an asshole,” he announces as he sits next to Phil. “I lost the ring when I threw it in your room. I mean, it's a crappy, cheap ring, but at least it signified something and I was angry and threw it and now it's lost and I guess I'd rather have it back than not.” He gives Phil a sad half-smile.

Phil looks at him. “You didn't lose it, Dan.” He stands abruptly. “I picked it up and put it away. I didn't know what else to do with it. Hang on,” and he leaves the lounge, going to his bedroom and returning a minute later with it.

Dan takes the ring as Phil hands it over and slides it on his finger. He looks at it. It's cheap, yes, but at least it signifies something. He's almost grateful that it isn't lost.

Dan's new video went up earlier today and he's looking through the comments, replying to a few people on Twitter, and he can feel the ring sitting on his finger as he types and somehow it reassures him.

This is all so confusing. His brain is overwhelmed by this. He thinks of something as he's typing a tweet at someone.

“Phil.” He glances at Phil, who looks up at him curiously.

“Yeah, Dan?”

This is going to be an interesting topic to breach but Dan thinks maybe he should. “If you meet someone in this next year – um. I mean, I know we're married, but I don't want to stop you from that. You can obviously go out with someone else if you meet them or you know, if you wanted to hook up with someone.”

They've been discreet about it over the years but it's not like the two of them haven't been with people. They just haven't really dated anybody long enough to come out to the public about it.

Phil furrows his brow. “Oh. Yeah, I mean. Okay. Yeah, same back at you.”

Dan nods too emphatically. It's a conversation he shouldn't _have_ to be having. He shouldn't have to give his permission for Phil to go out with someone or sleep with them and he doesn't really want to have this conversation last longer than it absolutely has to.

“Okay, thanks, I just wanted to clear that up,” he says quickly. “People like my new video,” he changes the topic to something safer.

“Well, of course they do. It was funny and you did a good job on it,” Phil tells him. Dan smiles at him, at the praise.

“Thanks,” and that's comfortable and nice and Phil smiles back and Dan's joked that people should wear sunglasses around Phil because he's like a ray of sunshine but it's not a lie. When Phil's really happy, like he looks now, his smile beams out and his eyes crinkle at the corners and his tongue does that little pokey-thing at the corner of his teeth and Dan can't help but smile back just as brightly at Phil, his unease melting away.

They're comfortable again and he even settles himself next to Phil. “Let's do something together,” he announces. “Let's hang out. We haven't really hung out that much the last few days. I've missed it.”

It ends up with them watching a movie, Phil making popcorn and Dan and him keep bumping hands reaching for it, and at one point, Dan's fingers brush over Phil's ring on his own hand and he looks over at Phil, who's engrossed in the movie, not even noticing that their hands are touching, and Dan thinks that they're going to be okay.

The unease will keep passing. They can get through this.

Just 360 more days to go.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Dan's listening to Pandora as he browses the internet when a song he's never heard comes on, a sort of tinkling start to it in the background, the tinkling of windchimes, the strumming of guitar, and he closes his eyes and actually listens, because it sounds pretty, the soft “ahhhs” of someone humming a melody.

_Sleep don't visit so I choke on sun and the days blur into one and the backs of my eyes hum with things I've never done, sheets are swaying from an old clothesline, like a row of captured ghosts over old dead grass, was never much but we've made the most, welcome home_

Dan's insides suddenly hurt. The lyrics are hitting home in a way. He hasn't been sleeping well, stressed, and yeah, the days feel like they've been blurring in one with that sleep-deprived exhaustion that one gets, and some days, it really feels like he's missed out on so many opportunities.

He hovers over the skip button, ready to click it, torn between wanting to hear the rest of the song and not.

_Ships are launching from my chest, some have names but most do not, if you find one please, let me know what piece I've lost, peel the scars from off my back, I don't need them anymore, you can throw them out, keep them in your mason jars, I've come home_

Thank fuck the lyrics are a little bit more meaningless now, the song is rather beautiful by itself, soft and sad in a way, soothing, and Dan lets his fingers slide the mouse away from the skip button.

It's been a full week. They now have 357 days left of this sham marriage. He keeps track. He's written once more in his diary and made a note of how many days left. He wonders what it means that he's counting down like it's some dreaded date in the future.

Is he an asshole for that?

_All my nightmares escape my head, bar the door, please don't let them in, you were never supposed to leave, now my head is splitting at the seams and I don't know if I can_

Those lyrics hit Dan in a way he can't quite explain, as the singer hums softly, hums a beautiful melody that aches inside him, because he's had those nightmares, the ones that seem to erupt out of you and settle in your bones, under your skin, hanging around ugly and unwanted, leaving you unsettled for days.

He's had a nightmare two days ago that Phil was shouting at him. They were in public, on the bus, and Phil had started shouting at him out of nowhere and Dan had been trying to shush him, didn't want to make a scene, and Phil's wedding ring was shining so bright, there were pictures being taken because everybody knew about the wedding somehow now, and it was going to get out.

Dan's not surprised he's had that nightmare, to be honest. He'd been waiting for a nightmare about their sham marriage to arrive. He's surprised it took a whole week, to be honest.

_here beneath my lungs, I feel your thumbs press into my skin again_

His breath hitches a little at the imagery. He thinks he's felt something like that before, or something akin to it. Phil. He's felt it with Phil. He's felt the press of something solid and tangible inside him, the sudden clarity of how wonderful and real Phil was, when he was eighteen, nineteen, when they were still so much younger, and how that had settled deep inside him and occasionally now it pushes at the surface, a worn out gratefulness that Phil is who he is, and Dan gets to share his life with him.

Those lyrics mean something to him. He can't explain why. He grabs his notebook and scribbles them down.

_June 21 st, 2016_

“ _Here beneath my lungs, I feel your thumbs press into my skin again.” Some song lyrics from a song I just heard on Pandora. It reminded me of when I first met Phil, the way our friendship forming seemed to form as a tactile thing that would just swell inside me._

_I'm writing nonsense, I think. Had a nightmare the sham marriage news got out. Not sure how many more I'm going to have. 357 days left. It seems like such a big number._

He's interrupted by Phil knocking at his door. “Dan?”

Dan puts down his pen and glances over at Phil. “Yeah? Come in,” he says, shutting the notebook.

“What are you doing?” Phil asks, genuinely interested.

“Started keeping a diary,” Dan explains. “Who knows if I'll actually keep it for more than a couple of weeks.” He shrugs.

“Did you want to go out and do something today? I kind of wanted to check out that new petting zoo that opened up last month, do you remember?” Phil asks, and he's got the eager look of a young boy across his face.

Dan does. It's not too far away – maybe a half hour on the Tube. Of course Phil would want to go there because he's twenty-nine and still loves the concept of a petting zoo.

“Let's go,” Dan agrees, because the smile on Phil's face when he agrees is enough to make him fill with happiness. Phil's happy so Dan's happy. It's probably strange how their emotions bleed into each other. This is one of the times that Dan doesn't care. Most of the time he doesn't care, really.

He has a flash to another song lyric. After he'd watched “Brokeback Mountain”, he'd found himself listening to the soundtrack on youtube, because it had been a very lovely soundtrack, and there'd been a song that had resonated with him and right now, there's a very specific lyric that could describe Phil.

“Just give me a half hour to get ready,” Dan says. Phil nods, still grinning, and backs out of his room.

He opens up his journal.  _So apparently we're going to a petting zoo. Phil's idea, of course. Not like it's going to be terrible – I mean, aside from Phil's tendency to get attacked by strange animals like squirrels so maybe a goat will wind up trying to eat his shirt or something._

_Today's a weird day. Phil smiled at me and all I could think of was another song lyric. “Just the smile in your eyes, it can light up the night, and your laughter's like wind in my sails”. Guess it's kind of true. When Phil really smiles, it's not hard to see why our fans call him sun. I've even joked about it myself, photosynthesising from Phil and whatnot._

_Time to go get dressed and go to this petting zoo with Phil. I'll be sure to write down how many animals attacked him when I get back._

Dan closes his journal again and goes through his closet. Loads of black. Black isn't appropriate for something as happy as a petting zoo. He actually selects something not black, a red t-shirt, though he does stick to his black skinny jeans. He brushes his teeth and combs out his hair and pushes at it – it's getting long, needs a trim.

He meets Phil in the lounge. “Ready to go?” He asks. Phil practically bounces to his feet from the sofa, nodding with boyish excitement still written across his face.

Dan grabs his wallet and stuffs it in the back of his skinny jeans, locking the door to the flat behind them, and they wander down the street, ride the Tube, walk a little more until they arrive at the petting zoo.

“Two, please,” Phil requests as they're greeted by some girl in a booth and Dan's halfway to reaching for his pants when Phil's already passing money, covering both of them.

Which, after all, they've paid for each other for various things before, when they've gone out for lunch or dinner, or movie tickets, but now it just has a tinge more domestic feel to it and it makes Dan wonder _does this count as a date if we're married?_ He hates that all he does is overthink things now.

“Hey, your ticket,” Phil says, elbowing him, giving him the ripped stub and Dan takes it without thinking, his fingers brushing Phil's, and he stuffs the stub into his pants pocket and follows Phil.

There's a gifset floating out there on the internet where he's got his head down staring at his phone and he's following Phil around somewhere, and someone had commented that Phil wears such bright colours because he's like a homing beacon for Dan that way, and funnily enough, it's almost true.

Phil's such a constant presence in Dan's life that even when Dan isn't paying attention to him, he still has Phil locked in his view out of the corner of his eye. So Dan looks around and looks at the signs for all the different animals.

“Let's go visit the capybaras!” Phil exclaims. “I wanna see capybaras!” They're near the section for all the rodents, there's mice and rats you can hold but no hamsters and Dan thinks that's good, thinks of Suki, wonders about the captivity of these creatures.

But he likes mice, little white mice with tiny red beady eyes, mice that stare at you unblinkingly and seem to see through you. “We can't pet the capybara,” Dan reads off the sign in front of the exhibit sadly. Phil looks equally as dejected.

“But only because it's sick right now,” Phil adds. “Maybe we can come back another time.” Dan smiles at Phil slightly. Of course he would want to come back to a petting zoo just to pet a capybara.

“Sometimes, Phil, you amaze me,” Dan tells him. He turns towards the little rodents, the exhibit of mice and rats and Phil follows him now. There, Dan takes his time gently holding one of the many white mouse and then a little brownish-grey rat named Perry, who curls his tail around Dan's finger and sniffs Dan's fingers curiously and then scuttles off Dan's hand back to his home. Dan strokes his finger along Perry's back gently.

Phil's not touching but he is cooing over them. “So, Dan, just how many thoughts are you having about the cruelty of these animals not having freedom and flashbacks to Suki?” Phil asks, after a couple of minutes.

Dan laughs and pulls his hand out of the exhibit. “Only about half a dozen,” he says. “Of course you'd know me that well,” he adds. Phil smiles at him, tongue sticking just out of the corner of his mouth.

“Of course you'd be having those thoughts.” Phil says in response. “Do I need to remind you that these creatures are probably really well-taken care of and look how big their enclosure is?”

“Still, they'd probably like freedom more,” Dan argues back. But they do have a big enclosure. None of them look particularly distressed. Most of them are snoozing, in fact.

They stand there for a couple more minutes watching the tiny little mice and then move on to the rabbits, soft things that twitch their noses and curl up in Phil's lap as he sits down, all limbs curling up on himself awkwardly.

Dan sits next to him and strokes a hefty brown one with floppy ears that hang long, scritches its fur. It's so soft. “Why'd you pay for both of our tickets?” He asks.

“Because you didn't have your wallet out yet and it was just easier because there were people behind us?” Phil asks. “Trade you?” He picks up his rabbit, a black and white thing with a pink nose, and Dan carefully lifts up his own and they swap.

The rabbit shivers in his lap and Dan strokes it gently, behind its perked ears, and they flatten back slightly, then prick forward again. He muses on what it would be like if humans could flatten their ears when they were stressed.

“Imagine if every time we got stressed our ears went flat against our head,” he says out loud.

“Some people can wiggle their ears, maybe that's our next evolutionary step,” Phil responds.

Dan laughs. “Maybe,” he agrees. They don't stay too long there because Phil wants to go see the ducks and chickens, the henhouse full of baby yellow chicks that peep at them and when you pick them up, peep even louder.

Phil gently touches them. Phil's gentle with all the animals, not like some of the children who grab too hard in excitement. Phil's excited too, but he's soft with them, not wanting to scare or injure them.

Dan likes that about Phil. He's so careful, never wanting to do anything to hurt someone or something else. It warms his heart, the heart he jokes is black and bitter. Phil keeps a piece of Dan believing in the good of the world.

He comments that to Phil quietly. He comments that because Phil is his husband and doesn't a husband deserve to know when he's a ray of hope in a bleak existence?

Phil looks at Dan with eyes that are a mixture of slightly confused and pleased at the same time. “I'm glad I can be that little beacon of hope, I suppose,” Phil says. A turkey wanders over and makes its gobble noise, garbled and clucky, and Dan watches as it ruffles its feathers.

“Thanks for being it,” Dan says softly. “D'you wanna go look at the horses and sheep? They've got llamas too, I think. And goats. You know, the four legged hooved creatures section of the petting zoo.”

“Ungulates.” Phil says. Of course Phil knows the term because he's smart, because he's got two degrees and not a lot of people know how smart Phil is, but Dan knows how smart he is. Dan admires Phil for his brains, he's proud of how smart Phil is.

This isn't normal, he muses in the back of his head. They're closer than normal people, they're closer than most best friends, they're so close they can read each other like open books. They've been partners in so much and now they're partners in a whole new way and it's strange because he has all the warm feelings about Phil platonically that people in love have.

His feelings for Phil are immense. They threatened to swallow him up when he was younger. They were so overwhelming and it took almost a year of friendship with Phil before it didn't seem like a wave crashing over him on a daily basis.

It took another year, by the time he moved in with Phil, that it was more like the smaller waves lapping at a shore, when you're floating in them, just kind of riding them out, an ever-present feeling that you kind of forget about and just drift in.

It's been seven years now and those feelings have long since become just a way of life to Dan, comfortable and easy, where it's so normal to look at Phil and smile and think of something little that makes him Phil and makes Dan happy, things he's adjusted to, where all the things that he adored about AmazingPhil have settled deep inside him and are just part of a daily life that he doesn't think about.

Because he's seen the bad side of Phil, too, the negative qualities, and they've eased him out of idolatry and into true friendship, given him a level head, but there's a lot more positive to Phil than there is negative.

It's become so second-nature to Dan to praise Phil inwardly for the things he does or says, to think of Phil so fondly, and he really thinks that he loves Phil as much as he's ever loved anybody else. Just not in  _that_ way.

If he was going to get stuck with a sham marriage, Phil would be the best partner. He's not happy about the marriage bit, but he's happy with Phil at this moment.

He realises that he's been thinking about this in his head as he follows Phil without noticing, and he has a flashback to earlier thoughts of Phil being like a beacon that Dan follows, and he starts laughing a little to himself because it's true, there's Phil in the corner of his eye even as Dan loses himself in a train of thoughts.

They go over to the horses first, despite Phil being afraid of them, and Dan leans his shoulder against Phil, the most physical he dares be in public. “These are nice horses,” Dan informs Phil. “This one's named Phillip too, look,” and it's a small horse. There's pictures of each horse with their name and information.

Phillip's a quarter horse, apparently he's a palomino, 3 years old, and he's small, the information notes, only 13 hands. Phillip looks plenty big anyways. Phil deposits fifty pence into a machine and cranks a handle and it deposits a handful of grain that Phil scoops out and offers with a flat hand to Phillip, who snuffles it up eagerly, lips brushing over Phil's hand, tongue even swiping a little out to catch the last of it.

Dan pulls out his own wallet and finds enough money to cover a portion of grain and offers it to another, a grey one named Lucy, a short thing, a Shetland pony. She gives a funny little whicker after she eats and promptly trots off, kicking up her heels, breaking into a faster gait for a few seconds and then settling back down.

“I guess she's really happy I gave her some grain,” Dan comments, as Lucy comes back around and sticks her nose through the wooden slats of the fence. She catches Dan's shirt between her teeth and starts to chew and he yelps, pulls it back, covered in horse slobber and leftover grain residue.

“Yuck,” Dan announces. Phil takes out his phone and takes a picture, talking out loud. “Danisnotonfire got assaulted by a horse at the petting zoo,” he says. “Tweet.”

“You suck,” Dan complains. “If you were a good friend, you'd be asking where the bathrooms are so I can wipe my shirt off.”

Phil nods. “Okay,” he agrees and turns to an attendant. “Excuse me, where are the bathrooms?”

Dan hadn't honestly expected Phil to ask – after all, he's a twenty-five year old man quite capable of finding that out himself. He was only giving Phil shit. But Phil talks briefly to the attendant and turns back to Dan. “Okay, they're over that way,” he points. “I'm going to stay and go pet the goats. They weird me out with their eyes but I like them anyways.”

“Give them some grain for me. I hope you get assaulted by them too so I can have my revenge,” Dan comments as he heads off for the bathroom where he wipes off his shirt with a wet piece of paper towel and gets most of the grime off it.

When he finds Phil again, Phil is rubbing the head of a spotted brown and white goat that makes little noises at him and Dan grumbles at him that there's a squirrel over there, Phil should go try to make friends, and he points at where there is indeed a squirrel sitting on a tree.

Phil just gives Dan a grin. “Come pet Lucky with me.”

Dan sighs and reaches in and runs his hands over Lucky's floppy ears and the goat makes another noise. “I wonder if Lucky is happy,” Dan comments.

“I think Lucky is very happy right now. He sounds happy,” Phil decides. He scratches a little longer. “Come on, let's go find the llamas. The sheep don't interest me as much as the llamas.”

The llamas are fluffy and peer at them with interest. Dan doesn't trust them not to spit on him so he leaves Phil to pet while he watches from a distance. Phil looks happy as can be. Dan doesn't think that Phil's stopped smiling since they got here.

Phil really is a happy guy. Dan's not an unhappy guy, but Phil just smiles so easily. Dan's glad they came here, though. It was a good idea. It was fun and it's made Phil extra happy.

After another round of petting all the animals, to which Phil again expresses his disappointment that he can't pet their capybara, they leave and head home. On the ride home, Dan reaches over and squeezes Phil's arm. “I had a good day,” he announces. “I'll make dinner when we get home.”

Later on, after he's made dinner for them, and written down everything he thought about at the petting zoo in his journal, they settle in and play video games, then switch to watching Game of Thrones from the beginning on a whim. Dan falls asleep during one episode and wakes a little while later to find that Phil's asleep too.

His head is resting on Phil's shoulder and the remote is in his lap. Dan pauses the episode and closes his eyes again, too comfortable to move for now. He realises, as he's falling asleep, that Phil's hand is resting on his knee. He's sinking into sleep faster than his brain can comprehend it, though, and he doesn't quite register that thought.

He wakes again, at three in the morning, with a crick in his neck from how he's sleeping. Phil's slumped onto him and Dan gently slides out from under him, supports Phil with one hand as Phil drops to the couch.

He should wake him, though. Otherwise, Phil will have sore eyes from sleeping with his contacts in.

Dan drops down to his knees and gently shakes at Phil. “Wake up, Philly,” he says sleepily, wanting to get in his own comfortable bed. Phil yawns and stretches and his eyes blink half-open.

Dan, for a moment, gets lost in the warmth that emanates from Phil as he peers at Dan. The way he looks at Dan so trustingly. “Yeah?” Phil asks. “What – ugh, my eyes hurt,” and Dan smiles a little.

“Fell asleep with your contacts in, you idiot,” Dan informs him. “Come on, wake up, let's go to bed.”

Phil follows Dan into the bathroom and he leans on Dan, still half-asleep, behind Dan, and he drops his chin to Dan's shoulder as he brushes his teeth, his cheek resting against Dan's. Dan can hear the scrubscrubscrub of Phil's brush in his mouth, that's how close they are.

This should be weird. This should be too close and uncomfortable. Dan doesn't move. He breathes steady and even. He's comfortable. He reaches up with one hand and ruffles Phil's hair. He doesn't say, “Get off me,” with a smile on his face that would bely that he doesn't really care.

He lets Phil lean on him, half-asleep, even as Phil finally moves to spit out toothpaste foam, plucks his contacts out, and then leans back against Dan again. “Remember when you used to share a bed with me when we first started hanging out? Sleepovers in Manchester?” Phil asks.

Dan nods. It hadn't been weird. He'd been excited to sleep next to Phil in a way. Idolatry, he thinks again.

“Wanna have a sleepover? We had such a good day, it could just be a continuation.” Phil says. “Crash in my bed, grab your pillow.”

It should be weird.

It's not. Dan nods, goes to his bedroom, snags his pillow, changes into pyjamas, finds Phil already asleep in his own bed. He lies down in Phil's bed next to him, curling up under the covers.

On a whim, he reaches over and squeezes Phil's hand. “Good night,” he says. Phil murmurs something in his sleep and settles his head back a little on the pillow towards Dan.

Dan can smell his nearness, his body wash and shampoo, as he falls asleep. He feels warm and safe inside. Somehow, this is okay. Today was a strange day where he feels all safe and like this is what it should be like every day with Phil. He wouldn't mind.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So okay this fic is going in a completely different direction than I intended so I guess we'll just see what happens next \o/ WELCOME TO OOC-VILLE, population Dan and Phil.

The strange thing about the sleepover in Phil's bed is it seems to cause some kind of shift. The next night, Phil offers his bed again, saying he liked having Dan there and Dan can't quite bring himself to say no.

Besides, Phil's his husband. He can sleep next to his husband, right?

He finds he sleeps a little easier too. The days start to slide by faster, more easily. He films a new video – makes sure he tucks his ring in a drawer so nobody can see it and apologises again for the 'corrupt' footage of Vegas again, makes jokes that Vegas is just not meant to be but they didn't have quite the adventure that they had last time as described in _The Amazing Book Is Not On Fire_ .

He slides the ring on as soon as he's done filming, rubs his finger over it.

He writes in his journal every few days, noting how comfortable he is with Phil, how they seem to be growing even closer, and who would have thought that was possible? When there's 349 days now left to their marriage. He's slept in Phil's bed every night for the last week.

They don't cuddle. They keep to their individual side of the bed. He makes sure to ruffle his own bed a little before filming his video, to make it look slept in.

Dan listens to a lot of music. He's always loved music and he loses track of time in it. He relaxes and destresses. When his life feels overwhelming, he turns on Pandora and lets it play, lets his brain drift.

Things are good – the days drop to 348, 347, sleeping in the same bed still, 346, 345, and they're taking care of each other. It's strange, how intimate they've become. Dan's falling into the role of 'husband' more easily than he ever thought he would have. Twenty-five years old and married to Phil, acting the part of a husband.

Their marriage is a sham but he's still doing the best he can. He's making breakfast and dinner most nights, while Phil's picked up doing the household chores most of the time. Phil's taking care not to leave his socks on the table, although he's still lapsing and failing at not eating Dan's cereal in the middle of the night. (Dan's starting to think that some people sleep-walk, Phil must sleep-eat cereal or something, because after five years, you'd think he would have stopped but he hasn't.)

Dan scribbles in his journal how comfortable it is, how strange it is that it's comfortable. They're more affectionate with each other – bumping into each other with nudges of their shoulders or kneecaps, talking when they go to bed face to face, hushed voices that remind Dan of when he was eighteen.

Phil makes a video next and his finger is barren of the ring in that and Dan marches out of his room after watching Phil's new video and stares at Phil's hand, where the ring lies shining silver, replaced, and finds himself soothed somehow.

That's how it goes, until it's been a solid two months. Until they're in the 200s for days left. They've been sleeping side by side for a while now. Dan's bedroom has all but been abandoned. There's 284 days left.

He's still calculating it, but not as often, so sometimes he has to count back on his fingers. He thinks that's a good thing, that he's not calculating it every single day. He's kept up writing in his journal. A lot of the time, he scrawls out song lyrics that speak to him.

Dan's met a girl he likes but he's not going to ask her out. Somehow, it feels wrong. He thought he could do it. He really did. She's a barista at the nearest coffee shop and they chat every time he goes and gets coffee and she likes him, he knows that. She flirts evidently enough and he wants to flirt back but then he rubs the ring on his finger and thinks of Phil and can't.

He doesn't know what to do. He brings it up to Phil, finally.

“I can't flirt,” Dan announces as he drops his weight onto the sofa next to Phil, jarring him, almost making him drop his laptop. “There's a cute girl at the coffee shop and I can't flirt because I keep thinking about being married to you.”

Phil looks at him. “You can't flirt because you're married,” he says, and he laughs a small huff of a laugh. “That's a relief. I thought I was the only one.”

Dan glances at him sharply. “What?”

Phil shrugs. “Checkout girl at the till when I went shopping last was insinuating I was cute. I think she recognised me. All I could think was, 'Remember, Phil, you're a married man' and told her to have a nice day.”

“Did she see the ring?” Dan's alarm is more in concern over that than the fact that Phil couldn't flirt.

“I don't think so. But I just feel weird flirting. It feels wrong.” Phil confesses. “I mean, we're in this for a year – I've gone this long without a real relationship and if I meet someone I'm meant to be with, they'll be around in a little under a year, right? True love works out that way?”

Dan chews his lip. “That's how it's supposed to work, anyways.” He agrees. “So we're not freaks for not being able to flirt because we don't want to cheat on our technically real but fake husband?”

“I don't like complicated things,” Phil says. “You know that. I never have.”

Dan can handle complicated a little better than Phil. Sure, he stresses out and it builds up inside him and eventually he snaps and has breakdowns – see his time at university – but he can handle complicated better than Phil.

Phil hates complicated. He hates filing copyright claims whenever the fucking Valentine's day video starts circulating again. He stressed when they were figuring out what pages of the book would go in what order. He handles it as well as he can but he hates it.

Phil doesn't deserve complicated, Dan thinks. He thinks to himself that Phil deserves something easy. He wants Phil to be able to flirt if he wanted to.

Just a little under ten more months. Dan drops his forehead to Phil's shoulder and presses it almost affectionately. Their tactile friendship that's only grown stronger is cemented again in him.

He goes to his room because things are somehow more complicated knowing neither of them can bring themselves to flirt. He turns on music.

It would come to pass, however, that music would be his undoing. He's sat there, when a song he recognises by tune but not by name comes on. He's sat there, listening to the lyrics, when they strike home.  _Forget the world, now we won't let them see_ , he hears, and thinks that that's what's going on. They're hiding a piece of their lives. They hide parts of their lives in general but this is a big part.

The song continues and then, then comes the undoing.  _Marry me, today and every day, marry me, if I ever get the nerve to say hello in this cafe, say you will_ .

He's sat there and he grabs his journal and he's still been keeping steady progress writing, one of the best accomplishments for journal writing, and he's scribbling down those lyrics. Writing with a sudden flashback, a surge that swells inside him,  _I did say hello in that cafe, the first day I met Phil, we went to a Starbucks and I'd said hello when I got off the train and we'd hugged but we were sitting there drinking coffee and I said it again, I said hello, I can't believe this is really happening, and he'd just smiled at me._

_And look where we wind up. Married. We apparently can't flirt with other people – it's weird – and we're sleeping in the same bed. We're pretty much living right up to the idea of what marriage entails, aren't we, save for the physical aspect._

Dan flips through his journal, rereads the entries. How bitter he was at the very beginning. How, a week later, they'd gone to the petting zoo and he'd sounded like a completely different person, how he'd written about how wonderful Phil was, how he'd made Dan feel happy that day, like there was a ray of sunshine inside Phil that shone out of him with his smile, and kept hope alive in Dan's heart, how lucky Dan was to have him in his life after all these years.

Dan notes that there's at least four entries where he's said something akin to,  _if it had to be anybody I got stuck with in this weird fake marriage, I'm glad it's Phil._

He counts three where he makes mention of feeling comfortable with how affectionate Phil and he have become, how it's not what used to be normal, but it's becoming normal.

He thinks about the idea of being married to Phil. Hell, if he wasn't straight, he'd stay married to Phil in an instant. Phil would be perfect for him.

It kind of muddles around in his head then. Phil kind of is perfect for him. It's just that whole physical aspect. Dan requires physicality in a relationship.

He's still listening to music when a new song comes on.  _I don't know if I've ever been good enough, I'm a little bit rusty and I think my head is caving in, and I don't know if I've ever really been loved_ . He hears and he writes them down before they disappear from his brain.

He thinks it might be true. He sometimes feels as if Phil is the only person who's ever really loved Dan, not in the way he wants. He thought he had it with his high school girlfriend but he didn't.

Without even thinking about it, he gets up and sort of wanders over to Phil's room, where Phil's lying on his bed, and sits down next to him. “What do you think of these lyrics? I don't know if I've ever been good enough, I'm a little bit rusty and I think my head is caving in, and I don't know if I've ever really been loved.” He sings them softly.

Phil ponders them. “Matchbox Twenty, right?”

“Maybe they're true for me,” Dan says softly. Phil reaches over, covers his kneecap with his palm, and Dan stares at it.

“You've been loved, Dan.”

“Not in the way I want,” Dan comments, saddened. “I don't think I've ever had  _it_ , that love that says this is forever. I mean, aside from my friendship with you. We'll be eighty and best friends, won't we?”

“Half-bionic men with technological advancements,” Phil agrees. “Best friends. We'll oil each other's robotic parts to keep them from rusting up.”

Dan laughs. “You're weird.” He declares. “I think we found our new topic for Going Deep With Dan and Phil.”

Phil grins at him, bright, and Dan feels something inside him squirm. “What about, um.” He pauses, thinks about the lyrics to make sure they're right. “Marry me, today and every day, marry me if I ever get the nerve to say hello in this cafe, say you will?”

“Dunno that one,” Phil says.

“It's Train,” Dan tells him. “I mean the lyrics. Do they mean anything? To you?”

“They're pretty,” Phil says. “Romantic enough. Why? You thinking of saying hello to the girl from the coffee shop?”

Dan lets out a started laugh at that. “No, um. I was actually thinking of the first time we met, how even though I'd already said hello when you met me at the train station, we got inside the Starbucks and sat down and I looked at you and just said it again because I didn't believe you were quite real yet.”

Phil looks at him for a long time. “Oh,” he finally answers. “Guess those lyrics are oddly appropriate now, then, since we're, well, married. You got up your nerve to say hello, I guess.”

Dan's smile isn't quite a happy one. It's more one of irony. “I've been writing in my journal a lot,” he says. “Song lyrics that mean something to me. And I was rereading what I've been writing and I've made a few comments that if I had to go through a marriage with anybody, it'd be with you. I mean, a marriage like this. And how comfortable I am with you.”

Phil nods, propping his chin on his kneecap. “So?”

“I dunno. What's it – what's it all mean?” Dan asks. “Why is it so normal now for us to be how we are? Why doesn't it feel more wrong? If anything, we've gotten closer, we're even more affectionate now.”

Phil shakes his head. “Maybe because we're not normal with each other? We've never been normal with each other. I doubt there's very many people alive who have the kind of friendship we have.”

Dan's head feels tight and he reaches over, puts his own hand on Phil's knee. They're sitting there, touching each other, and somehow he feels soothed. “Am I who you'd get stuck with?” He asks. “If you had to get stuck with anybody in a fake marriage?”

Phil looks at him. “Without a doubt. I mean, you're being a good husband – I know you're doing it because you want to fit some role you think you have to play and you shouldn't have to feel that way but I know you do, and what you're doing is good.”

He can't figure out what he's trying to think, but he knows he's trying to think of something and his head floats in and out of thoughts, flashes of ideas, trying to piece together a puzzle that isn't quite taking shape.

All he knows is he's thinking about how important Phil is to him, how Phil's everything he'd want in someone if it were to be real, except Phil and him aren't attracted to each other.

Except Dan remembers that there are studies that have shown you can grow to be attracted to someone simply by being intimate, that intimacy can breed attraction. They've been growing closer and sleeping in the same bed, been hugging more often, leaning against each other, sharing space that normally would go unshared.

His brain finally starts to piece things together and what he thinks next should shock him but instead he just kind of blinks a few times. “D'you think we should try kissing?” He asks.

Phil lifts an eyebrow at him. “Dan?”

Dan rubs his hand over his face. “I mean, aside from the whole we aren't physical with each other, this marriage is about as real as it can get, right? We're doing all that other stuff. We're sleeping in the same bed and you're doing most of the chores and I'm cooking most of the meals and we're doing it with the intent of making the other person happy.”

“Well, yeah, but we're making the most of the situation,” Phil says.

“Well, I mean. Kissing is – kissing. It's easy enough, right? It doesn't have to mean anything. We've both kissed people that were just friends, just being nice.”

“You're proposing we try kissing?” Phil asks, confused. “I mean – Dan, I'm not saying no or anything, I'm saying that I can't believe you of all people would be suggesting it.”

Dan sighs. “Studies have shown that physical intimacy can lead to more intimate feelings.” He says. “If we were to kiss, maybe it would make things easier on us. Make us more comfortable with being married to each other.”

Phil cocks an eyebrow. “You need to stop thinking so much, you know that? You think up some really strange ideas.”

Dan stares at him. “I just – I'm trying to ameliorate the situation.” He says quietly. “I'm trying to be good enough.”

“Think you're a little bit rusty?” Phil comments. “Never been good enough?” He's quoting back the song lyrics from earlier. Dan meets his gaze and is wordless. “Oh, Dan. You've been good enough for a while. In general, and in all of this. I mean, you get me. You make me about as happy as I could ask for.”

Dan sighs slightly. “Marriage means something to you. I know that. I'm just trying to make this as good as it can be for you.”

“So you'd be self-sacrificing and put your heterosexuality aside for the next nine something months and kiss me?” Phil teases him. “Just to be good enough?”

Dan shrugs. “Maybe. I used to get questions like that when I did my vyous, things like would I rather kiss you or fall in a volcano, and obviously I'd much rather kiss you than fall in a volcano. I mean, I'm not so inflexible that the idea of kissing you is worse than death. The idea of kissing you isn't as bad as the idea of you feeling like the marriage isn't worth it.”

Phil looks at Dan. “This whole marriage thing is complicated.” They've taken the steps to make it official, filed the paperwork, made sure it's as private as can be and won't get out. They'll get divorced in ten months time. “I don't like complicated,” he repeats his earlier words.

“Kissing would make it more complicated,” Dan confirms. Phil shrugs.

“I dunno. What if we feel obligated to kiss and we're not comfortable with it?” Phil asks in return.

Dan chews his lip. He squeezes Phil's kneecap and Phil leans his knee towards Dan's touch. “We could always kiss and if it sucks, never kiss again, and if it's not so awful, kiss sometimes when it feels like we should.”

Phil slides his hand over to Dan's and squeezes. His hand is warm and a little damp. “You know what's weird? That this isn't the weirdest thing that we've done together.”

Dan laughs faintly. “We've done weirder in some regards.” He agrees.

Phil's the one chewing his lip now. “Just, like, how would we... like, friendly kisses? Not super passionate?”

“Yeah, I mean, we could try that.” Dan nods. He's still holding Phil's hand, and Phil's fingers are clenching and loosening slightly in his grasp. Phil's nervous.

“Well, come on then, let's have at it,” Phil says. He looks straight at Dan and Dan feels his heart pounding because it's weird, it's going to be weird, it's going to absolutely have to be weird. They've danced together on the Brits, they've danced together at parties, to music that's too slow to be fast, too fast to be slow, touching an arm, staying near each other, and it's been weird then, because it's hard to define what kind of dancing that is, but it's not going to be as weird as kissing Phil.

He leans in and crosses the distance and kisses Phil.

Phil kisses back and Phil kisses the way his entire personality is. Phil kisses with warmth and sweetness. He kisses lightly and his hand briefly tightens around Dan's again and then comes to pat Dan's wrist and he pulls back.

“Was it awful?” He asks.

Dan's looking at Phil's mouth. “Kind of the opposite.” He's distracted. It should have been weird. It wasn't. That, in and of itself, weirds out Dan. Why wasn't it weird?

“No, it wasn't.” Phil agrees. “You kiss rather nicely.”

“You kiss exactly the way I should have guessed you'd kiss,” Dan announces. “You kiss like the sun feels on your skin.”

Phil blinks and smiles and blushes and ducks his head. “I'm not sure what that means but I think that was a compliment.”

Dan nods. “It was. You're -” He tries to put it down into words. “You ever go outside in the summer and warmth pours down on your skin and fills you up and you can actually feel how physical the heat from the sun is, where it feels like a blanket wrapping you up?”

“The good kind, not the kind where you get overheated and can't breathe, right?”

“Right. Well, sort of, like, the warmth where it infiltrates your breath.” Phil's staring at Dan and maybe Dan's crazy, maybe only he experiences it this way. “When you breathe in, you breathe in the heat and it sinks inside you. Where everything inside you and outside is just warm and it makes your skin prickle.”

“Okay.” Phil nods. “I guess I know what you're getting at.”

“That's – that's how you kiss. Whoever you kissed in the past has been really lucky because you have this warmth in your kiss that just – I don't know, it was like being filled with it.” Dan's blushing.

Phil reaches over and pushes away a strand of Dan's hair from his face. “You kiss like a hummingbird.”

Dan gives Phil a bewildered look. “Okay, I don't know if that's supposed to be a compliment or not.”

“Your kiss was all light and fluttery and quick. You didn't linger too long, you kept pulling back and leaning in a little. It was like a hummingbird feeding from a flower, where it keeps darting all about, never quite still.” Phil explains.

“Still not sure if that's a compliment, but whatever,” Dan says.

Phil laughs. “It's a compliment.” His fingers are still wrapped around Dan's wrist. He glides his finger over Dan's wrist as he speaks, finally pulls away.

Dan nods. “So – we can kiss when it feels appropriate? It wasn't awful?”

“Yeah.” Phil pauses. “You feel better?”

In all honesty, Dan does. He doesn't know why. He just does. He nods slowly. “Yeah. Thanks for asking.”

Phil smiles at him, that soft, sweet smile that's become commonplace in Dan's life over the years. Dan, instinctively, leans over and kisses him again, forces himself to linger and not move away like Phil had commented. He feels Phil respond, kissing back, and when he finally pulls back, he says softly, “I'm just glad I could be a good enough husband for you, I guess.”

Phil looks ponderous. “I'm glad I could be the same for you.”

“You've been more than I expected,” Dan tells him seriously. Phil catches Dan's wrist again and holds it.

“The same goes for you, Dan, okay? Know that? Do you really think about what we're doing and think that you're not putting in way more effort than you've got to?”

“I'm doing my best for you,” Dan says quietly. Phil glances down where they're touching, where his fingers are circled around Dan's wrist.

“You're doing a good job,” Phil comments. “I appreciate the hell out of it.”

Dan sits there, wordless, until Phil lets go of his wrist. He waits a minute more, still silent, and finally goes back to his room.

_So. Apparently we're kissing now. I suggested we try kissing and we did and it was almost nice in a way._ He writes.  _This is weird. I wonder if I should be writing this down._

Later on, he goes back to Phil's room for bed. Phil's already asleep and Dan tucks himself in without waking up Phil, or so he thinks, until Phil rolls over and faces him, muzzily mumbles, “Hey,” and Dan, on instinct, touches Phil's arm.

“Go back to sleep.”

“No good night kiss?” Phil jokes. Dan blinks. “I'm serious. This feels like a time when you should be kissing me. Don't married couples kiss goodnight?”

“Will you go back to sleep if I do?” Dan asks.

“Of course. I want to go back to sleep anyways. It's not like I'll be mad if you don't.”

But Dan leans in and guides his mouth over to Phil's in the dark, blindly, and it's a lighter kiss than before, quick and fleeting. “Go to sleep,” he repeats.

“Okay,” Phil yawns. “G'night, Dan.”

Phil reaches over and rests his hand on Dan's though, patting it. “You're doing a good job,” he mumbles. He doesn't move his hand away and Dan lets it stay there. He feels secure. He feels tethered to the bed and his mouth tingles a little where he'd kissed Phil and he thinks of how safe he feels with Phil still, despite everything.

He wonders, for the first time since he's woken up married, if maybe they can make this work and it won't be awful. He thinks of how they've changed and if it will stay like this after they get divorced. He finds himself hoping it will.

He tucks himself in very tightly under the blankets, pulling them up to his nose, breathing and out steadily. He feels like a small child suddenly, befuddled by the world and its vastness and its strange workings, and only the nearness of Phil seems to help.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry how OOC they've become.

He wakes up to Phil's alarm clock on his phone going off. Phil swats at it and buries his face into the pillow. “Not yet,” Phil mumbles. “Still tired.”

“Why'd you set your alarm?” Dan asks.

“Wanted to get up early and make you breakfast for a change, like a good husband,” Phil grumbles. “I dunno why you insist on always doing it, let me do it once in a while for you.”

Dan rubs his eyes, blinking at Phil. His heart hurts inside a little. “Phil,” he says. “Look at me.”

Phil turns his face, putting his glasses on where they rest just slightly cocked wrong, where they sit funny because he's got the side of his face pressed against the pillow and Dan has a flashback to waking up Phil and filming it and bouncing him around until Phil had declared with a soft fondness in his voice, “I hate you”.

He remembers it because it's one of his most treasured moments with Phil in a way. He's got loads of treasured moments to be honest. But the way Phil had said “I hate you” and Dan knew that Phil meant, “I love you” in their own special way had dug its way into his heart.

He leans in and kisses Phil because if Phil's waking up to make him breakfast, that deserves a kiss, right? Phil kisses back and Dan's surprised at how well he already feels like he's starting to know Phil when he kisses Dan, knows that in a few seconds, Phil will probably pull back and blink a few times, like he's surprised.

Phil does, after a few seconds more, and then, as if on a whim of his own, he kisses Dan's cheek and somehow that's so much more intimate than kissing on the mouth. Dan feels the soft brush of lips on his cheek and thinks his face is heating up. It's just … intimate, somehow.

“Go make me breakfast if you want, otherwise I'll do it,” Dan says. Phil yawns.

“Will you do it?” He asks, pitifully. “I want another half-hour of sleep.” Dan smiles at Phil.

“You're useless,” he tells him, rubbing Phil's shoulder and propping himself up. “What do you want?”

“Toast. Bacon. No, skip the toast. Waffles. I miss big waffles.”

“Sorry, all we've got are boxed waffles, none of those huge ones you love from America. If you want, we can buy a waffle iron and try making bigger ones, though knowing us, we'll set the flat on fire.” Dan says.

“Just have to remember to spray it with cooking spray,” Phil says. “So it doesn't smoke up the kitchen.”

They've gotten better at cooking over the years. Dan's improved a lot in the last two odd months, trying out new recipes, wanting to keep a steady influx of new meals for Phil. He likes to cook now, actually. If Youtube ever fails, maybe he'll go to cooking school, now that he's mastered not burning the flat down.

“Go back to bed. I'll come get you when breakfast is ready.” Dan tells him. He gets up and takes his time, wanders downstairs and makes himself a cup of coffee first, drinks it and browses Tumblr on his phone – mobile really sucks, it barely loads pictures, but he can reblog text posts easily enough – before he starts cooking, to give Phil more time in bed.

He fries up bacon and then pops the frozen waffles into the toaster and pulls out the syrup and butter. When the waffles pop up the first time, he sticks them back down because otherwise they're not fully cooked, they're soggy and cold in the middle.

Then, after he's plated everything, he carefully carries two plates with syrupy waffles and bacon and silverware upstairs and says, “Wake up, Phil,” loudly.

Phil's sprawled out on his chest and he flops over. His shirt's ridden up enough and the blankets lie low enough that Dan gets a glimpse of his stomach, of Phil's happy trail, and he snorts. “Wake  _up_ , Phil,” he says, even louder, and Phil opens his eyes.

“I'm awake.” Phil says softly. “What, is breakfast ready?”

“Budge over, we're having breakfast in bed. If you get any maple syrup on these sheets I will murder you, I just washed them two days ago.” Dan informs him.

Phil grins at him a little. “I'll be extra careful.” He takes his plate from Dan and makes room for Dan to resettle in the bed. “Why breakfast in bed?”

“We used to do that in Manchester too, remember?” Dan says. “Three hour breakfasts in bed where we'd just sit around and talk and didn't want to get up from the warm blanket forts we'd made.”

Phil smiles at that. “I miss that.”

“Which is why I brought us breakfast in bed,” Dan announces. “Just don't get syrup on my sheets, please.”

“These are my sheets, I could wash them,” Phil says indignantly.

“Yeah but I  _just_ washed them so you'd be undoing my hard work,” Dan shoots back. Phil grins and pecks Dan's cheek and Dan rubs his face.

“Stop that, you're making me blush.” He grumbles.

“What, I can kiss your mouth but not your cheek?” Phil asks. Dan shrugs at him.

“Cheek's more intimate with you. I don't know. Kissing you on the mouth doesn't embarrass me.” Dan explains, badly.

Phil grins harder. “You're strange, Dan.” He catches Dan's jaw and turns Dan to face him and kisses him square on the mouth then. “Thanks for washing the sheets. I promise not to drip syrup on them.”

Dan reaches over to catch Phil's plate where it's tipping and the syrup is starting to trickle towards the edge. “Then pay attention and eat your breakfast and stop almost breaking that promise,” he says, not harshly.

Phil settles down then with his food and leaves Dan to his own breakfast and they sit, side by side, talking between bites, and later on, Dan takes the plates downstairs, scrubs them clean, cleans up, and Phil wanders in, wraps his arms around Dan from behind and props his chin on Dan's shoulder. “Thanks for working so hard around here to make things nice,” Phil says. “If we're being honest and appreciating each other more.”

Dan freezes in Phil's grasp. He feels warm inside. He thinks of the song lyrics.  _I don't know if I've ever been good enough, I'm a little bit rusty and I think my head is caving in, and I don't know if I've ever really been loved_ .

He thinks maybe that's not true, maybe he has been loved and good enough, he's starting to think that, anyways, with Phil, after their talk yesterday. Phil coming up behind him to hug him so close to say thanks.

On instinct, Dan twists around in Phil's grasp and reaches up and hugs Phil back, hugs him hard with hot, soapy water on his hands and he mumbles a thank you to Phil that Phil returns with a confused, “You're welcome?”

Then Dan lets his hands fall away and turns again as Phil steps back and resumes washing up.

“You're strange,” Phil says again. “I'm lucky I got stuck with someone as strange as me for a flatmate. For a husband.”

Dan feels something inside of him squirm, a weird feeling, not quite an ache, almost a fluttery feeling. He doesn't know what it means, why it means something to him when Phil says those words.

They kiss over the next few weeks. They kiss when they wake up, after Dan's cooked them breakfast, before they go to bed at night. Those are the three times when they absolutely kiss every single day. There are other kisses, on occasion, peppered into their lives, when Phil beats Dan at Mario Kart and Dan pretends to sulk and Phil leans over and kisses his cheek, despite knowing how it makes Dan squirm, and tells him,  _you're still way better than me at this_ .

They take their rings off when they film their videos. They put them back on afterwards and each time Dan watches a video with Phil in it, he makes sure Phil's wearing his ring again afterwards.

The kisses start to mean something to Dan. He looks forward to them. It takes him about three weeks before he figures it out, though. That he doesn't just look forward to them, he wants them.

There's a stunning revelation. He's writing down in his journal about the day, about how much he enjoyed kissing Phil after they'd watched the latest episode of a new show that's just come out about three men who all share the same flat and the trials and tribulations of their lives, some silly half-hour comedic show that they're only watching for irony's sake, to compare and contrast to their own lives.

Where Phil had said, “Yeah, well, they may have a new big flatscreen television they all chipped in to buy and share, but they don't have what we have, right Dan? We've got something special.”

Dan had murmured, “Yeah, we do,” and Phil had leaned in and kissed his cheek until Dan swatted him and turned to grumble at him and then Phil had kissed him on the mouth and it had been a strange kiss, long and lingering, not like their usual kisses which are quick and fleeting.

He's writing down in his journal what had happened when he'd realised that he'd kind of wanted to have Phil go on kissing him.

His fingers tighten around the pen. Is he attracted to Phil? Because that's – oh christ, that's what that feeling is, he thinks suddenly, that fluttery feeling he got when Phil had hugged him in the kitchen while he was washing up, it was the start of wanting that from Phil, and to test the theory, he goes to where Phil is and plunks down next to him and then, heart racing, he rests his head on Phil's chest and Phil makes a confused noise, but then reaches to pet Dan's hair and drops a quick kiss to it.

“Hi,” Phil says, and Dan sits up.

His heart's thudding even faster. Yeah. He got tingly inside when Phil had done that. He's got tinglies because of Phil. He's attracted to Phil now, on some level. He wonders about that. He thinks about Phil kissing him and wanting more of it.

He wonders if Phil would be up for making out.

He thinks to himself that if this sort of thing were to happen to him, at least it's with Phil. Who he's married to. He then promptly thinks that it's hilarious that he's more concerned with the fact that he's married than he is that he wants to kiss a guy. But either way, at least it's Phil.

Dan says none of this out loud. Because Phil can't possibly feel the same way back. Phil's just filling his obligation of kissing as a husband.

Still. He wonders if Phil would be up for making out because Dan kind of wants to make out with Phil. He thinks of finding out Phil's kissing techniques for that.

He leaves the room and goes to his bedroom and sits down with the pen and writes, with a shaky hand,  _I think I'm actually falling for Phil. This cannot be a good thing. I didn't plan on it, that's for sure. But now when I kiss him, I actually want to keep kissing him._

_This is officially the weirdest turn in my life ever. I don't even know if I want to think about it. After all, this can only complicate things more._

But he tests his theory that night again. When he curls up with Phil and Phil says, “Goodnight kiss, please”, and Dan leans in, decides to see what happens if he doesn't pull back. Instead, when he kisses Phil, he kisses him with intent.

Phil makes a tiny muffled noise. “Hm?” He asks and pulls back. Dan shrugs.

“Figured maybe we could see if we enjoyed kissing a little bit more,” Dan says softly. “I enjoyed the kissing this far. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to kiss a little more.”

Phil lies there with his head on the pillow, looking at Dan. “Did you want to?”

Dan squirms a little. “Maybe,” he admits. Phil nods a little, even with his head on the pillow, and seems to take it in. “Did you enjoy it?”

“The kissing? It's not bad.” Phil says. “I mean, it's no worse than any kissing I've had in the past. You're a good kisser.”

“You're not half-bad yourself,” Dan says. He thinks,  _I really might be biased, though, now._ “But I figured we could just, you know, keep kissing and see what else happens. Maybe it'll go on for a bit. It could be fun?”

“You've got a strange idea of fun,” Phil comments. “Okay, I guess. Let's try it.”

Dan lies down next to Phil and looks at him. His eyes are wide and he wonders if Phil can read in his expression how nervous he is, that this is suddenly meaning more.

He hopes to god not. This is so selfish of him, trying to get more from Phil when Phil doesn't feel anything like that for him in return. It's obvious enough with his response just now.

He has no idea why Phil even has agreed to this. But he has and Dan's not strong enough to be the bigger person and say they shouldn't. He's developing a crush on Phil, he doesn't know what to do about it, and so now he just shuffles over until they're face to face, nose to nose, and Phil grins at him.

“This is weird,” Phil announces.

“We can back out if you want,” Dan says. Phil shrugs with one shoulder.

“It's worth a shot, I guess. Maybe we'll enjoy this too. It's not bad kissing you. It's kind of nice, like, I like getting kisses. I never thought I'd be getting them from you but it's not bad.” Phil says.

Dan closes his eyes. “Let's stop talking then.”

He waits for Phil to make the first move because he's not brave enough for that. Because he needs Phil to be the one to kiss him if Dan's not going to pull back, if Dan's going to try seeing what happens when they don't stop kissing.

Phil leans in and brushes his mouth to Dan and Dan summons up every bit of knowledge he has about kissing and tries to make it good for Phil. It's not like he hasn't been trying to make it good for Phil in the past, but now he wants to make it  _good_ , he wants to make Phil want it more, to make Phil want to kiss him back.

He can picture Phil in his head, soft black hair, bright blue eyes, and the videos don't do his blue eyes justice, they're enrapturing and captivating and even before Dan started developing this  _thing_ for Phil, sometimes he could lose himself for a few seconds in Phil's eyes. There's a reason he stares so much at Phil in their videos together. Phil is honestly that captivating in general.

Now, he can almost see them like he's watching from out of his body, them kissing, Phil kind of nuzzling his lips against Dan's and Dan's mouthing just ever so gently, opening his lips, encouraging Phil to do the same, and Phil's going with it, and Dan slowly slides his tongue to just swipe over Phil's lips, and Phil parts his mouth further, lets Dan slide his tongue there too.

They're at a funny angle, heads lying on the pillow, and it's not great, but it's got Dan flushed and his heart pounding and he reaches up, touches Phil's hair, strokes it and Phil makes a little funny noise there, like he's content, so Dan does it again.

When they finally pull back, Dan murmurs, “So?”

Phil nods. “I liked that too.”

Dan thinks,  _This is not normal, this is not normal, what's going on? How can this be happening?_

He leans in and kisses Phil again for round two and they're not pushing at each other needily, they're not trying to get closer, they're just sort of lazily kissing and not pulling back, and after a little bit, Phil mumbles, “Okay, wanna go to bed now,” and Dan pulls back. “But that was nice. We could do that too sometimes.”

Dan nods. He shuts his eyes and he pretends like his head isn't reeling. Phil liked that kissing too. They can do it in the future. He's so selfish that he's enjoying it, that he can't tell Phil the truth.

When he wakes up, he's face to face with Phil. It seems so easy to just lean in and kiss him while he's asleep. Because after all, it's nice to be woken up with a kiss, isn't it?

Phil sighs and reaches up and catches his hand in Dan's hair, tugging a little, and then he comes into full alertness. He pulls back, looks at Dan. “Wha?” He asks quietly.

They're face to face and Dan shrugs. “It's nice to wake up to kisses,” he says. “I would like it anyways.”

Phil nods. “I've got morning breath though, so now I wanna go brush my teeth.”

Dan's face must give away his disappointment. Phil actually laughs. “I think you were looking forward to this,” Phil says.

Dan tries to play it cool. “I mean, I don't care,” he says. It's not technically a lie. He doesn't care – about Phil's morning breath. He does care about the kissing. Phil pecks his lips gently. Dan's heart does a tiny flip-flop.

“Okay,” Phil says.

“I have to – um. I have to pee,” Dan says, and he gets up.

Yesterday was the realisation that he might actually be attracted to Phil now. That he's made himself start to fall for Phil. Right now is the overwhelming knowledge that's finally sunk in. It took a few hours.

He suddenly can't be around Phil because it's too much. So he dashes to the bathroom and turns on the shower and decides that he has to push it all down, that he has to stop the kissing because if he falls for Phil and Phil doesn't like him back, he's going to really be fucked for the rest of this fake year of marriage, and then he'll be fucked even after it.

Suddenly he regrets kissing. He regrets it immensely. He showers and he doesn't bother straightening his hair and he's playing a video game when Phil comes in the lounge and looks at him and drops a kiss to his cheek and Dan burns.

“I like your hobbit hair,” Phil comments. “You should wear it around me more often. I appreciate it and I don't think you look ridiculous.”

“But I do look ridiculous,” Dan mumbles. He rubs his cheek where Phil kissed and feels Dan settle next to him.

“Hey,” Phil comments. “Did you want to, um,” and Dan glances at him. Phil doesn't quite know what to say what he's trying to say, it appears. “This morning, you wanted to wake me up with kissing and I didn't want to because of my morning breath.”

“Yeah, it's no big deal,” Dan comments. “We don't have to do that anymore, the kissing. If it's weird or morning breath bugs you or whatever.”

“Well, no, that's not it at all. I mean, I told you I don't – it's not exactly something I expected to be doing with you but I don't mind it. It's kind of nice. It's been a long time since I kissed someone, so even if it's just you, it's not bad. I think we've officially redefined friendship's boundaries of weirdness.” Phil comments. “I was just offering, um.”

He stops talking. “Just, now we could. No more morning breath.”

He leans in and kisses Dan and Dan sucks in a breath, and he should stop this he really should, but instead his fingers come to rest against Phil's elbows, then slide to his forearms and he turns to face Phil more.

Last night's kissing was lazy, half-hearted, and they weren't quite awake. Now, they're both wide awake and it's a lot more coherent and active. Phil doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands at first but then he brings them to rest around Dan's waist.

Phil's mouth is soft and a little wet and he mumbles, “This is weird,” a couple of times, and Dan says, “We can stop,” in return, but Phil doesn't pull away. “This feels nice, too,” Phil returns. “It's okay.”

It's so far from okay.

Dan can't breathe. Each kiss from Phil drags him down further in this crush that's developing. It makes him want to go upstairs and listen to sappy music and write down lyrics that remind him of Phil. He might wind up doing that anyways. His diary is basically turning into song lyrics that speak to him – half the entries are full of them.

His head swims. “Okay, I think I need a break from the kissing,” he says. He's trying to hide the way his voice trembles slightly. Because if he keeps kissing Phil, he's going to want to grab Phil and pull him in tight. This is supposed to be light and easy.

This is supposed to be casual, meaningless. This is just supposed to be kissing.

This is so far from just kissing for Dan. It's time to extricate himself from the situation and go away until he can get his brain under control.

Before he suggests something stupid like, “Hey, want to try friendship handjobs?” because he doesn't actually trust his stupid mouth not to offer that up right now. Because he's hard in his pants and he prays to god that Phil doesn't look down.

“I'm gonna just, um. Go. You can make dinner. I'm gonna go take a nap, I'm tired.” It's a blatant lie. But Dan needs to not be around Phil, he needs to cool off.

He practically bolts to his room. He locks the door behind him too.

Poor Phil. He wasn't planning on getting saddled with this fake marriage and he certainly wasn't planning on getting saddled with Dan actually falling for him.

Dan's just going and fucking things up all the more. He's suddenly aware of this. He regrets. He wants to put on music and lose himself in it but he doesn't trust himself to not hear a song lyric and think of Phil and that would make him fall more for his best friend.

He never should have suggested the kissing. This is going to screw them all up.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apparently when dan says "we should stop kissing" that means "we should have an entire chapter dedicated to kissing" WHOOPS I swear to god i have lost control over these characters i s2g im sorry also cliffhanger :3

Music becomes Dan's life. It's his solace. He scrawls down tons of lyrics in his journal.

 _And then she said she can't believe genius only comes along in storms of fabled foreign tongues_ , he writes, and thinks of Phil, of Phil's intelligence and the way that Phil's intelligence is so often misunderstood for silliness, but Phil is smart, Phil's got two degrees, and Dan might joke about it but he's proud of Phil.

 _I know the world's a broken bone, but melt your headaches, call it home_ , he writes, and thinks about the way that no matter what, at the end of the day, he has a home, he has a Phil to come home to, and so far they haven't fucked up too badly, but he's got to be careful now. He can't go on kissing Phil, because it doesn't mean anything to Phil. It can't, right?

He grabs his phone, because this is something he can't talk to Phil about, and he texts, _The kissing doesn't mean anything, right? To you?_

 _No? It's just kissing. I mean, it's weird but you're my best friend so if I was going to kiss anybody..._ Phil trails off there.

Dan balls up his fists there. Exactly as he thought. It's weird but Phil's comfortable with him because Dan's his best friend but there's no feelings there and Dan's gone and fucked up by developing the inklings of feelings for Phil. So. That's it. No more kissing unless Phil initiates it because Dan's not strong enough to _not_ kiss Phil. And no more emotions. Figure out how to break them down, shove them away.

Of course, music only serves to further his strange developing crush. One day, he finds a song he's never heard of before and the lyrics absolutely speak to him. _Don't let 'em get to your spark, that little light in the back of everything that says this isn't for madder love,_ he hears, and thinks of Phil's brightness, his seemingly never-ending pleasure in the world, and listens on, _a hundred candles to make the walls come alive, a little frankincense to sweeten the air just right, now take my hand, and open the door_ , and Dan writes it hastily, relistens to that over and over.

He wants something he can't have now. Now he's thinking of making them dinner and lighting candles and burning incense, something nice and sweet, even sweeter than he's being to Phil.

He's thinking of taking Phil's hand and squeezing it as he goes to bed at night and his heart tugs for more of the idea and Dan stuffs it down, refuses to let it get through to his head any further.

He stops the kissing. He's all but stopped writing down journal entries – his diary has become a haven for song lyrics.

Halloween is coming up. They're, of course, doing a baking video. They're making pumpkin pie, which can only end terribly, because pies are complicated and they can barely handle cookies. They don't even like pumpkin all that much but Phil's the one insisting they make it, that they can add loads more sugar to eat to make it edible, and Dan's the one who has to explain that it doesn't _work_ like that.

Phil kisses Dan still. Dan's only stopped the kissing where he instigates it. Phil kisses him after meals and before bed and Dan returns the kisses, though with less enthusiasm as he had before, and they never wind up making out the way they did that one night, and for that, Dan is grateful. It doesn't come up as a topic and he doesn't push it.

Because it's hard, it's hard enough being married to Phil and planning on getting a divorce come July of next year, when he's busy trying to keep his heart from actually falling for Phil and fucking everything up with feelings that would come spilling out eventually because he doesn't know how to keep them in.

So they film the video and as per usual, the second Dan gets his hand on a rolling pin, he turns and lightly thwacks it against Phil's bum, and Phil yelps at him and Dan grins at the camera with glee.

On camera, they can be their personas, they don't have to be so Dan and Phil, they can be DanandPhil, and their silver rings are gone, hidden safely away in the lounge on the table.

It's, of course, a Delia Smith recipe, and they go through the process of roasting pecan nuts (which Phil tries to eat half of and Dan has to swat at him to stop), whereupon Dan takes over and cuts them by hand into tiny pieces while Phil blathers on about how he'd probably cut his fingers off doing this.

They make the pastry portion of the pie itself, sifting together flour and sugar and salt and of _course_ Phil does some kind of dance while he's doing it and manages to get flour over half the counter and Dan has to wearily sigh and smile at the camera and go, “This guy,” pretending there's not fondness in his face and in his heart, pretending that he doesn't care that Phil's spilled flour and he'd rather just be kissing Phil right then and there.

They add egg and water and knead the dough until it's smooth and pop it in the refrigerator for a half an hour to rest. They've opted against actually boiling a pumpkin like the recipe calls for and just bought canned pumpkin, and so they've got half an hour to themselves and Phil reaches for the camera and switches it off.

Dan's not expecting Phil to whirl around and plant a hand against his face, all floury, and leave an imprint, and he yelps, smacks his finger into the own remnants of flour on the counter and smears it all down Phil's top in retaliation.

Phil's already got the sugar and sprinkles some over Dan's hair and Dan immediately launches himself towards the fridge and yanks out an egg. “We are stopping this right now or you are getting egg in your hair,” Dan warns.

They are twenty-five and twenty-nine and having a food fight in their own kitchen. It's ridiculous. He's trying not to smile even though he wants to. He can still feel the flour on his cheek and the sugar shifting down his face, on his nose and lips, where it's fallen from his hair.

Dan licks his lips. “Well, at least I taste good,” he comments. “While you just look like an idiot,” he adds.

Phil steps forward and flaps his jumper at Dan, fluffing the flour in his general direction and Dan makes another undignified noise and steps away, but Phil catches him and with oddly gentle fingers, brushes at the sugar that's now dropping down his cheeks and nose and across his mouth.

“You taste good?” Phil teases him.

“Yeah, I'm covered in sugar thanks to your doing,” Dan informs him. “And it's all over my mouth and I can taste it every time I lick my lips.”

Phil tilts his head and stares at Dan and then he's leaning in, Dan's back against the counter, and he's kissing Dan, immediately letting his tongue slide out to grace across Dan's lips, and he hums a noise of contentment.

“You do taste good.” Phil agrees. He kisses again, with intent, using his tongue to clean up Dan's mouth, and Dan can't help it, he really can't, but he opens his mouth after a second and lets Phil's tongue come to match his own, and that only startles them both for a second, until Phil's kissing back, lazily, no longer with the intent of getting sugar off Dan's mouth, even as he presses Dan harder into the kitchen counter, until Dan's leaning back a little and resting his elbows on it, fingers coming to rest on Phil's sides.

He wants this so badly and he should be stopping it. And of course, at that moment, song lyrics pop into his head, from music he was listening to earlier. _Tell me that we belong together, dress it up with the trappings of love, I'll be captivated, I'll hang from your lips, instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above_.

Dan does hang from Phil's lips, he hangs onto Phil with his fingers and he lets Phil sweep his mouth with his tongue, lets Phil reach to cradle his skull, and he doesn't think Phil realises just how heated they've gotten, but Dan certainly does, he's on alert because everything in him is thrumming with want.

He risks letting his fingers inch up Phil's sides, even as Phil's hands come to rest on Dan's hips, and wraps them around Phil's shoulders, loosely, dangling together at the base of his neck, and Phil makes a small sound, and then Dan can't believe it's happening, but Phil actually is reaching underneath him and lifting him up.

He'd forgotten how strong Phil was too – how in the one photoshoot they'd done of the weird sideways room, Phil had pretty much supported both of them with his arms and legs, how he can actually pick up Dan in general.

Then Phil's depositing him carefully on the edge of the counter and there's not a lot of room because they have cabinets, but all that means is that Phil's forced to hold Dan steady on the edge of the counter while Dan leans forward, leans in towards Phil's mouth and tries not to sigh out the noises of pleasure he's got threatening to emerge.

Phil's insinuating his way between Dan's thighs and is almost pulling his hair with one hand, as his hand finds his way into the softness of it, and pulling Dan in, the kiss getting even more heated, and Dan didn't think it could, but oh, how it can.

Because Phil's gently twisting and twining his fingers between Dan's hair and he's stroking his tongue over Dan's, exploring Dan's mouth in the softest ways, but no less heated than before, and his one hand on Dan's hip holding him in place is squeezing so tight, and Dan's curling his fingers around the back of Phil's neck, sealing their mouths together so tight, wanting to grab, to grab and remove clothing.

Phil's free hand, the one in Dan's hair, tugs extra hard and that's what makes Dan break, he makes a sound of pleasure and moans directly into Phil's mouth, and Phil makes a low, throaty “nnnn”, back. For all the times he's completely failed at the opening of “Toxic”, this is the one time if he was trying, he would have succeeded because it is one of the hottest sounds Dan's ever heard and his cock, which was already getting rather interested in the whole situation, twitches and is at full hardness about point two seconds later.

He fights back the urge to say, “Want you to touch me, want you, Phil,” and instead he bites down at Phil's lip, earning another noise from Phil, and Phil's pushing back at Dan, pushing forward and it's incredible, having Phil trying to get so close to him until -

\- Dan cracks his head on the cabinet behind him as Phil pushes him back too far.

“Christ, ow!” He yelps, and Phil breaks away instantly as Dan rubs the back of his head, where it's pulsing with pain. He's out of breath and a little shaky from kissing Phil and his fingers tremble as they rub the sore spot and when they come back in front, he tries to hold them steady.

“No blood, just sore,” he mumbles. He's looking at Phil, who's staring at Dan with no amount of small concern on his face.

“You okay, Dan?” and how is it that he just went from practically dry-humping Dan to looking as innocent as can be? Dan doesn't know, he just wants to grab Phil and kiss him again. Just – not on the counter.

“I'm fine, I'll be fine,” Dan says. He slides down off the counter without warning Phil, and if it's intentional so that he can be in Phil's space, be right up face to face with him, because maybe Phil will kiss him again, then so be it.

Phil doesn't though. He flushes a little, more than he's already flushed from the kissing, and takes a step back, though he does reach up and touch the back of Dan's head himself gently, and even though it hurts when he pushes too hard where Dan hit his head, Dan keeps the hiss of pain to himself, because Phil's taking care of him and it's sweet and hurts his heart a little.

Dan steps forward and presses his face to Phil's shoulder. “You're a good friend, Phil, and an amazing kisser, just maybe next time pick a different place to prop me up.” He mumbles. He doesn't know if Phil actually understood what he said, muffled into Phil's jumper.

“Hm?” Phil asks. So that's a no.

“Just was saying it was a good kiss.” Dan says. He stops himself from saying the bit about picking a different place to prop him up. Because he's supposed to be stopping this, stopping the kissing. He got caught up in it and couldn't this time.

But it's going to go to shit if he doesn't stop it soon.

“I forgot how strong you are,” he comments. “That you could lift me up.”

Phil smiles at him, his tongue does that little sticky out thing it does at the corner of his mouth, and Dan's heart flutters in his chest. “It was a good kiss.” Phil comments. “We could do it some more if you'd like. You've been rather reticent on kisses lately. I've been the only one giving them.”

So he's noticed. Dan has to come up with a lie on the spot, quickly.

“I just thought maybe we should only do it when you feel it's right, because you're the one who we're doing this for, to pretend this is a real marriage so you don't feel so let down, remember? I didn't want to kiss you first because it's not for me, really, is it?”

Phil eyes him. “It's just as much for you as it is for me. And that's a ridiculous reason not to kiss me first.”

“I mean, it's not like we need to be kissing. I just suggested it to make it a little easier, to make us more comfortable, like it's a real marriage so...” Dan's excuse is flimsy. “And it's really okay, I don't need it to be about me for the kissing.”

“It's not like the kissing is bad, though,” Phil argues. “You said it yourself now twice, that I'm a good kisser.”

“Yeah, but I mean, my ex was a good kisser, and I don't go around kissing her. I wouldn't, anyways. I suppose if she kissed me, I might kiss her back, just to see what happened, but I wouldn't initiate it.”

Phil gives Dan a look there. “You'd kiss your ex?”

“Well, I suppose. It wouldn't mean anything. Just like these kisses don't mean anything,” Dan says, lying about what they mean to him. “They're just fake kisses, like this fake marriage, right?”

“Right, I guess.” Phil answers. “I guess that makes sense.” Dan wants to ask, _what did this kiss mean, then, because it was not in any way fake, that was one hell of a kiss, that was the best kiss I've ever had_.

It really honestly was, right up until he whacked his head on the counter. He's never kissed his ex like that before, he's never had someone digging their fingers into his hair trying to pull him in as close as he could get, never had someone squeezing his hip and letting their tongue find out every inch of his mouth.

He wants so badly to do it again. He licks his lips. “I think you got all the sugar off,” he comments. Thank _god_ he's not hard anymore, thank god the pain in his head managed to kill off his hard-on because otherwise it might be awkward if Phil looked down at any point and saw Dan popping a stiffy in his jeans.

Phil eyes him. “Want me to double-check? We've got fifteen more minutes before the dough finishes chilling, I could be extra-thorough.”

Oh fuck yes, Dan does. His breath catches in his throat and his fingers curl up on themselves into tiny fists and he stops himself before he nods. “It's okay, I'm pretty sure I could just wash my face too,” he says.

Phil nods. “True,” and he steps out of the way for Dan to get to the kitchen sink, so that Dan can do just that.

They finish the recipe, which miraculously, doesn't turn out terribly at all and they do, in fact, make something resembling a pie. They're going to have a disgustingly long video. It's going to be running on thirty minutes by the time they can trim it down, probably, and Phil continuously complains about Dan ruining his jumper by smearing flour on it, to which Dan returns that “You can't see it, but Phil smacked my face with both flour and then dumped sugar on my head, because he's a grown man who doesn't understand the concept of not having a food fight when I'm probably going to be the one cleaning it up.”

In all actuality, Phil will probably clean it up since he's taken on the task of most household chores since they're doing the whole marriage thing, since Dan cooks and cleans up after that, does the laundry, Phil's the one who does the rest of the chores.

But it's still fun to make fun of Phil and it's hard not to look at Phil and remember just what the dumping of sugar on his head had led to.

By the time they finish cleaning up the kitchen, putting everything away, they're both tired and don't feel like starting the editing today. Because even though it'll go on Phil's channel, Dan will probably be there helping him with the editing, getting him to cut out bits that Phil might keep that he doesn't think will go over well, encouraging Phil to add comic sans snarky text.

That's one of the more hilarious things he thinks he's rubbed off on Phil – careful Dan, don't go thinking about rubbing off on Phil, his brain adds – is his usage of comic sans. Though, Dan thinks, Phil doesn't _quite_ perfectly understand the ironic usage of it at times.

Phil goes out to the store later to buy a new toothbrush because he forgot to buy one when they did their shopping last and when he returns, he's got half a dozen doughnuts, all sticky and glazed, and he brings them into the lounge where Dan's sitting on his laptop.

When Dan looks up and sees them, his brain immediately goes into sarcasm mode. “I'm assuming you bought these so you can test out your new toothbrush's ability to clean your teeth?” He asks.

“I may have forgotten the toothbrush because I got distracted by the doughnuts.” They're Halloween-themed, with spooky icing bats and pumpkins all over them, and only Phil could go out to get a toothbrush and come back with confectionery treats.

To which Dan bursts out laughing at Phil. “Plonker,” he says with affection in his voice. “Come on, then, let's try these out.”

Between the two of them, over the next two hours, they wind up eating the entire half-dozen and there's enough sugar in Dan's stomach that he thinks he might be sick, but they're so damn delicious that he can't stop reaching for another one.

They watch television and eat sticky doughnuts and Phil voices the squeaky cries of a bat not wanting to be eaten and at some point, in a scene from a show, they start playing Phillip Phillips' “Home”, and there are lyrics that Dan will have to write down.

 _Hold on to me as we go, as we roll down this unfamiliar road, and although this wave is stringing us along, just know you're not alone, cos I'm gonna make this place your home_.

He looks over at Phil. Well, those lyrics certainly describe them to a fucking tee. They've held on to each other over the years, emotionally, as they grew up, as they made a life that was down a road they had no idea what path it might take them on, and they've certainly made a home together.

He looks around at the flat, filled with their endless little knick-knacks and everything that feels warm and right. He looks down at the ring on his finger and wonders where the path might take them over the rest of the year of this marriage. Eight more months time.

 _Settle down, it'll all be clear, don't pay no mind to the demons, they fill you with fear, the trouble – it might drag you down, if you get lost, you can always be found, just know you're not alone, cos I'm gonna make this place your home_.

“Phil,” Dan comments casually as he looks from the television to Phil and back, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Yeah, Dan?” Phil asks. They're shoulder to shoulder, the discarded container of empty doughnuts on the table in front of them.

“I might have some sugar on my lips from all those pastries,” Dan comments. “Can you check?'

Phil's laughing now at him. “Is that your way of asking if I'll kiss you?”

Dan shrugs, feels the slide of the fabric of his shirt against Phil's. “Only if you want to. I just – it seemed like you were enjoying yourself earlier.”

Phil's quiet as he turns and rests his chin on Dan's shoulder. “I was.” His lips are so close to Dan's neck and they've never kissed there and Dan's head swirls as he thinks about what that might feel like.

“You could just go wash your face off,” Phil adds. “Like you did last time,” and Dan nods.

“Yeah,” he agrees, disappointed, hiding that disappointment from his face, and he starts to rise, when Phil catches his wrist and tugs him, tugs until Dan's half-kneeling on the couch, one leg pushing against it and one leg is caught between Phil's, and he has no idea how he didn't wind up kneeing Phil in the balls, but somehow he's managed to not, and Phil's already tangling his fingers in the back of his hair and pulling him down.

“I could always check, though,” and Dan sucks in a breath as Phil's mouth meets his, as he repositions himself so that he's not all twisted up at this awkward angle, where Phil's the one pulling him down and Dan's sitting on Phil's lap, kissing him.

Phil nibbles at Dan's mouth. “You're certainly all sugary,” he comments, and his tongue glides across Dan's lips, to the corners. “Messy eater, you've got sugar all over your mouth,” and Dan's melting, he's absolutely melting as Phil slides his hands down his back and holds his waist.

He leans forward and lets his own tongue meet Phil's, tastes sugar on Phil's lips and tongue, and mumbles, “You're just as bad as me, I can taste it all over you too,” and Phil shrugs.

Then they're quiet, they're just kissing, and it's so good and Dan's getting hard again, and he doesn't know if Phil is because he's sitting far enough back on Phil's lap that he's not in a position to find out, and he leans forward, leans into Phil's touch.

“This kissing, it doesn't mean anything, does it?” Dan mumbles, and Phil shakes his head.

“Just kissing. Really good kissing, but it doesn't mean anything,” Phil confirms and Dan's heart sinks. He kisses harder, intent on putting everything he's got into that kiss, because maybe he can convince Phil to like him back if he does this well enough.

How the fuck is he going to divorce Phil in eight months time if at the rate he's going, he actually falls for Phil?

He doesn't want to think about that. Right now, he just wants to think about the way that Phil's breathing is fast and he's making muffled noises into Dan's mouth and he's fisting Dan's jumper, and Dan squirms his way forward until he's closer in Phil's lap, until he can feel whether – and yes, oh god, Phil's hard, Phil's definitely hard.

It's fucking weird as hell to have a dick pressed up into his ass. Dan squeezes his eyes shut, because they were already closed, but he squeezes them in nerves, and he ever so lightly grinds down and puts pressure on Phil's erection and feels Phil go stiff under him, fingers stilling, and Dan goes still himself, not breathing, their mouths moving more slack against each other, half-kisses, and then Phil equally carefully rubs back, lifts his hips and presses into Dan, and Dan breathes out a sigh of relief, hides it as a moan, which only makes Phil rub further.

Because kissing can lead to grinding and that can just be part of the deal too, right? And so they grind into each other, kissing harder, more needily, sloppily, breathless, and Dan's practically dry-humping Phil at this moment, and Phil's matching him, rubbing and grabbing, and it's all too much, there's no way Dan can control his thoughts or his actions entirely.

Which is why his fingers slide down Phil's chest, between them, and reach down and with shaky, nervous hands, he palms Phil's cock, biting Phil's lip at the same time, and Phil's fingers go stiff and his moan gets cut off as he gasps, “What-”

Dan doesn't let him finish. “I should jerk you off. I got you all worked up, I should jerk you off.” He can do that. He knows how to jerk himself off. It'll be just like doing it to himself, except to Phil. He's only mildly terrified. “I'm a good husband, right?”

It's the most ridiculous argument in his life and Phil's got to know it. To try and distract Phil from that frayed logic, Dan squeezes again, and he risks it, he breaks away and kisses Phil's neck, kisses and bites a little, and Phil whines, gasps out as Dan squeezes again, kisses again, and finally utters, “Yeah, okay,” and Dan's brain stops because he hadn't really expected it to be agreed upon.

His breath goes out of him and he pulls back to stare at Phil. “Yeah?”

Phil looks nervous. His eyes are wide and his voice shaky. “Go on,” he agrees. “If you want. I wouldn't mind.”

Dan nods. Okay then. He's giving Phil a handjob. His heart thrums a thousand beats a minute and he tries to collect himself and remember every trick he has for making it feel good for himself, so he can make it feel as good for Phil too.

He takes in a deep breath. “Okay, so, let's get to it,” he says. He smiles faintly at Phil, leans in, kisses him again. He gets ready to try and see what'll happen next.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few of y'all have commented on wanting more angst so I hope you're happy because here comes more angst for you. (also I think you should know that literally my entire plot I had outlined is completely obliterated from this point forward, because this was not at all how I planned on this going down so I guess we're just flying by the seat of our pants for plot from now on)

Dan shifts back again on Phil's lap until he can unzip Phil's jeans and then he stands, pulling them down, revealing Phil's boxers, which are white and blue striped, and he's hard, and Dan doesn't let himself look down, doesn't let himself look as he sits next to Phil and reaches over and he's so nervous right now.

“Did you want me to kiss you?” Dan manages to ask. His hand rests on Phil's thigh, stroking.

“You can kiss my neck,” Phil says. “That felt good. I think I'd enjoy it.”

Somehow, that's good, that's fine by Dan. He can bury his face against Phil's neck and hide his expressions, hide there. So he leans in, he tucks his face against Phil's and inhales the scent of Phil and kisses lightly, listening to Phil breathe in softly, a little faster than he was before, and he starts out with a trail of feather-light kisses up and down, fingers inching further up Phil's thighs.

“Good?” Dan asks and Phil nods, hums a yes, spreads his legs further, kicking his jeans off. Dan's aching to touch himself but there's no way he's going to do that, not when he wants to focus on Phil, making sure Phil's going to enjoy this as much as possible.

“Good,” Dan says again, this time confirming his own pleasure that Phil's enjoying himself, and he reaches the fabric of Phil's boxers, lets his fingers shakily reach until they find the button in the front, undoes it, popping it open, and slides four fingers inside, and he hears Phil gasp just as his brain absolutely stops completely when his fingers touch Phil's dick.

He's touching Phil, he's touching Phil's dick, he is touching the most intimate part of Phil and he can't think and everything he was planning on goes out of his head. He freezes and his mouth stills over Phil's skin.

“Dan,” Phil whispers, and Dan forces his fingers to move, fumbles Phil out of the opening of his boxers, until Phil's cock is hard and erect, and if he stops, he won't be able to start again, so he angles his face further towards Phil's neck, until he can place a kiss directly below Phil's ear, scrape his teeth there, and Phil first twitches and leans towards his action, then angles his neck towards Dan.

“More?” Dan asks and Phil nods. Dan doesn't move his hand yet on Phil's erection, just has his fingers loosely wrapped around it, and he's growing accustomed to the feeling of a dick that isn't his in his fingers, and so he draws lines and lays careful bites and nibbles over Phil's throat, and he can actually feel the occasional twitch of Phil's cock when he does something _just right_ , and inwardly Dan glows.

He's good at this, it appears, at least with Phil. He hasn't started stroking Phil yet but he's got Phil breathing fast and dick responding and Phil's craning his neck to give Dan access and somehow the hammering in his heart has slowed down enough that Dan can breathe again, can think.

Time to move forward a little then. He curls his fingers tighter around Phil's erection. “Ready for more?” He asks, biting directly at the junction of where Phil's throat and clavicle is.

“Very,” Phil huffs out, breathing in sharply as Dan bites harder. “Careful, don't leave a hickey.”

Dan loosens his bite. “Sorry,” he whispers. “Just, you seemed to enjoy the biting.” He enjoys hearing Phil enjoy the biting.

“I definitely enjoy biting,” Phil agrees. He inhales softly as Dan pulls at him now, slowly, softly, stroking up and down. “This marriage thing is getting complicated.” Phil comments.

“Shhh,” Dan whispers. He doesn't want Phil to think about complicated. Phil doesn't like complicated. Right now, he wants Phil to think of just this and enjoy it. “Just close your eyes and enjoy this.”

It hits him then that maybe Phil doesn't want this. “You do want this, right? I'm not pushing you into this?”

“I did not expect this and this is weird and complicated,” Phil repeats. “But I got pretty worked up what with all that stuff we were doing and I could just get myself off but it's infinitely better when someone else does and I guess if it's with you, again, I think if it was anybody that I wasn't actually romantically interested in...”

Dan smiles against Phil's throat to hide the ache that tears through him, a sad smile that he masks as a nip to Phil's skin. “It's weird and it doesn't have to be complicated, it can be just this, just close your eyes and relax,” he repeats.

“Yeah, okay,” Phil says, and one hand comes up to stroke at Dan's hair, mussing it. “Just gonna close my eyes and relax.”

Dan pulls back long enough to watch as Phil does that, watches Phil's face as Dan strokes him slowly, long pulls along his cock, fingers coming to brush over the head of his cock and back down, back down to his balls, reaching to stroke there, exactly how Dan likes to do it to himself and he watches as Phil's mouth parts a little.

“Good?” Dan asks again and Phil nods, wordless. “Anything you really like?”

“Didn't think you'd play with my balls,” Phil says. “But I really like that,” and Dan leans in, kisses Phil's throat, with his free hand, reaches and continues to stroke at Phil's balls, gently working them between his fingers, rubbing them, the same time as he jerks off Phil between his fingers.

“Oh,” Phil breathes out. “Yeah, just like that,” and he bucks his hips up a little into Dan's motions.

Dan kisses sloppy and soft over Phil's throat, he nibbles, but not too hard to leave marks, he even dares kiss Phil's earlobe and tug it between his teeth, and Phil sucks in a breath as he does that.

“Dan, your mouth should be illegal,” Phil comments, sounding a little unsteady. “Just saying. Whoever you wind up with is going to be a very lucky girl.”

Dan doesn't even dare let himself think, _I might want to wind up with you_. He slams the thought shut before it's even gotten started, lays another line of kisses down Phil's throat and back to the small hollow where throat and collarbone lie, and sucks there.

Phil must be too far gone to care that Dan's actually focusing his efforts there. Maybe it's Dan wanting Phil to remember this, his want for Phil to think about it, maybe that by making Phil think about it, he'll start thinking about Dan that way too, but he starts out soft, lapping and licking over the spot, grazing his teeth, jerking Phil faster, feeling precome at the tip and smearing it down.

He focuses on that one spot and it's sensitive and got Phil breathing fast, arching his throat bare for Dan, and Dan's biting just a little harder now, pushing limits, keeping all his senses alert for any hesitation from Phil, but Phil's not stopping him.

If anything, Phil's digging his fingers harder into Dan's hair, pulling, pushing, pressing into his scalp and tugging the hair and gasping when Dan lets his teeth scrape at the junction, and he's rocking steadily into Dan's fingers now.

Dan lets his fingernails just graze over the tip as he comes to it, lets his thumb rub directly over the tip, as he equally gently rubs Phil's balls, and Phil keens and chokes out a noise and Dan can feel Phil getting even harder, knows that Phil's close.

So he strokes steady and now he begins to really bite at Phil's throat, wanting to mark, and it's low enough that Phil can wear jumpers the next few days until it fades, bites and sucks and drags flesh between his teeth and jerks Phil steadily, no longer nervous, feeling quite confident in what he's doing for how responsive Phil is. He stops playing with Phil's balls long enough to push up his shirt so that when he does come, it's not on his clothing, and then drops his hand back down and resumes stroking and pulling and squeezing.

Phil grunts, his hips lift and rock and then he's coming, pulsing under Dan's fingers, and it's pouring onto his stomach and over Dan's fingers and Dan doesn't care at all, he's pulling Phil through it, breaking away from Phil's throat and kissing his earlobe, breathing out Phil's name and Phil's stuttering out Dan's name in return as he gasps and shudders.

When Phil's hips return to the couch, Dan withdraws his hands and waits a few seconds for Phil to get his brain together before asking, “Was that alright?”

Phil stares at him, agape, for a few seconds, before half-laughing. “Are you joking, Dan?” He asks. He reaches down and tucks himself away as he softens and his gaze leaves Dan's there. “It was spectacular,” he says to a point over Dan's shoulder.

Dan's so hard he thinks he might actually have blue balls if it gets any worse. “I'm going to wash my hands,” he says softly. “Don't worry about returning the favour or anything, I'm fine,” he lies through his teeth.

He gets up and heads to the kitchen and closes his eyes. He washes his hands and goes to his bedroom and locks the door, collapses on the bed, undoes his jeans and kicks out of them, kicks off his pants and has his hand wrapped around himself in about five seconds flat.

He jerks hard and fast and relentless. He doesn't want to drag it out. His head is filled with thoughts of Phil and how he sounded and felt. He doesn't want to drag it out and think of them even longer because that stupid fucking study was certainly right, intimacy breeds emotion, and right now, he's gone and fallen a little bit more for Phil.

Because before it was just a bit of a crush from the kissing, but then that kissing in the kitchen during the baking video had crumbled a little bit of his resolve, and just now, the way Phil sounded and felt, that had snuck into Dan's heart and led him to resolutely marking up Phil's throat intentionally, when Phil didn't want him to, led to him working up Phil so much that Phil didn't have the brains to tell him not to, because he wants Phil to think about him, because he's going to be thinking about Phil.

Because he's definitely falling for Phil and it's all his own stupid fault. He should never have started this in the first place and now unless he confesses exactly why he wants to stop, there's no way to stop this, he doesn't think.

He could always lie and say it's too weird, but Phil wouldn't believe him. After all, they've both agreed the kissing felt good and Dan was the one who suggested jerking off Phil, so Phil wouldn't believe him.

He strokes himself to orgasm and bites back Phil's name and covers the head of his cock when he comes to stop it from getting all over his own clothes, going and washing his hands again in the bathroom.

He's pretty sure it'll be obvious exactly what he's done given that Phil probably can hear him washing his hands again. So Phil probably knows that Dan's gone and jerked off, Phil knows that Dan must have been turned on from what they did.

So there's no way to stop this. Dan thinks this is what the emotional version of a car crash must feel like.

 

Dan contemplates sleeping in his own bed that night. He really thinks he should. He should start distancing himself. He can slowly do it, just slowly ease them out of the situation the same way he slowly eased them into it accidentally and stupidly.

He's, as usual, listening to Pandora, and there come more song lyrics. He's left his journal on his desk next to him. He just writes song lyrics down now, dates them. It's interesting – he doesn't write what his mood is, what they do, he just writes song lyrics when they hit him and he looks back through them and notes his mood through whatever song lyrics particularly spoke to him.

_Another night and here we are again, all our faults laid out ahead, let it out then let it right back in, all those voices in your head_

Sometimes Dan thinks that Pandora is actually psychic and knows exactly what song to play to put him in personal crisis mode. This is a good song, he actually really likes this song, but the lyrics certainly speak to him.

Because after all, what is he doing besides chasing his own thoughts around in his head? He's unsure of what to do, pretty sure he's making bad decisions that are going to screw him over come eight months from now when it's time to get divorced.

What happens then, if he keeps falling for Phil? What happens when he has to get divorced and find someone else? What happens if he's gone and fallen for Phil and he actually meets someone else? Because he doesn't foresee him and Phil moving out from each other any time soon which means any feelings he's developed for Phil are likely going to stay put steady and firm in his heart, and it's going to be a hell of a lot harder to meet someone else when he's busy crushing on Phil.

Because right now, he wants Phil there, kissing him, just pulling him out of his chair and onto the bed and lying him out and laying kisses all across him.

He didn't plan on this. Phil doesn't have feelings for him back and Dan's gone and screwed it all up.

_Lay down all your troubles end to end, they could reach up to the stars, so many roads, you don't know where you've been, but you still know who you are, and if I seem preoccupied, I'm wondering what to do_

Dan's glad his handwriting is sometimes shit. That sometimes even Phil after all these years has trouble reading his notes. Because if Phil ever came and saw all these lyrics, read them, he'd probably figure out a hell of a lot more than Dan wants him to know.

This is where Dan lays himself bare, with the lyrics that work inside his mind and remind him of Phil. And he certainly is preoccupied and wondering what to do.

He rarely writes his thoughts anymore. He thinks perhaps it's safer not to, in case Phil ever does read this one day. He doesn't think Phil would knowingly breach the privacy of Dan's journal, but just in case it somehow ever happens.

He looks at the clock. It's half-past-one in the morning. He can hear Phil in his bedroom, getting ready for bed. He wonders if Phil's wondering where he is. Dan's wide awake, to be perfectly honest.

He's not ready for bed at all. He's staring at Tumblr and letting those last lyrics tumble through his brain over and over. _And if I seem preoccupied, I'm wondering what to do_.

Sure enough, a couple of minutes later, Phil comes to his door and knocks. “Dan?”

“Come on in,” Dan says, closing his journal and shoving it to the side. Phil opens the door and looks at him.

“I was about to head to bed – did you, um. You've been joining me so I just wanted to let you know.”

Dan nods. He should stay in his own bed tonight, from now on, pull back. “I'll be there soon,” he hears himself say instead.

He waits five minutes and then changes into pyjamas and even though he's not tired, he goes and takes a melatonin to see if that'll help him sleep, and he goes to Phil's bedroom where Phil's lying, playing with his phone.

When Dan slips into bed next to Phil, he can feel the awkwardness between them.

“Never had a one-night stand,” Phil says. “And you up and left me after jerking me off.” He says it in a tone that Dan can't quite read.

“I, uh. Didn't leave you? I mean, all I did was go to my bedroom. I was all of a minute away, Phil,” Dan comments.

“It was a joke, Dan. I mean, I'm sure you were confused. I was a little confused.” Phil says.

Bedtime is a terrible time to talk about one's feelings. Because it leaves oneself full of thoughts that infiltrate your dreams. At least that's in Dan's experience. But he guesses it's time for a talk.

“I wasn't confused,” Dan says. “I mean, I told you, I was just – I was helping out. We've kissed, I figured jerking off was... I mean, it's a lot more than what we've done but we both jerk off so it's not like I don't know how to do it and it was my fault you were all worked up, I was the one who managed to get you to kiss me again, and we were all heated so it was just my way of saying sorry,” and he's stupid and fumbling and making no sense and half of it is lies, lies to cover up truths that would expose him barren.

“You've got a hell of a way of saying sorry,” Phil comments. He rolls onto his side. “I did notice you gave me a hickey anyways.”

“Got caught up in the moment, sorry,” Dan lies. “Won't happen again.”

“Yeah, I kind of got caught up in the moment too,” Phil agrees. “I wasn't exactly stopping you. I meant it when I said your mouth should be illegal.”

Dan wants to kiss Phil and remind him of that, make Phil lose his senses again, as if maybe by kissing him senseless he can pull Phil under with him, make Phil fall for him the same way that Dan's falling for Phil. He holds his breath and does not, he resolutely does not. He waits five seconds and thinks of sandpaper and gravel and elephants and waits until the urge has passed and then breathes out.

“So, afterwards,” Phil comments awkwardly. “Did you, um, did you-” he fumbles and falters here.

“Did I take care of myself?” Dan finishes for him. Phil nods. “Sure,” Dan says casually, as if he didn't think of Phil the entire time.

“I, uh. Did you want me to have?”

 _Yes,_ Dan thinks, _so desperately._ “It's no big deal. You wouldn't have felt comfortable with it, would you have?”

He knows Phil well enough to know Phil's limits. He knows he pushed a limit of Phil's today and Phil's unnerved, which is why they're having this too-late conversation that's going to beleaguer Dan's brain tonight probably.

“No, I probably wouldn't. Would you have want me to have?” Phil repeats. Dan forces a smile onto his face and makes sure Phil can't read the lie in his eyes. It's hard as hell because Phil knows him so well but Dan didn't do drama in school for nothing.

“I would never want to push you past your limit,” he says honestly. “I was just being helpful. If you want me to do it again down the road, I'm willing to help out.”

Because now that he's jerked off Phil once, he kind of wants to do it again.

“What, really?” Phil asks, sounding astonished. “So if I told you I wanted another, um. If I wanted another handjob right now?”

“Do you?” Dan asks, yawning and rolling onto his side as well, facing Phil. He's already thinking of what it would be like to give Phil another handjob.

“Well, I think I'm sated for now but, you would?”

“Sure,” Dan shrugs again. “I guess I'm comfortable with that. You don't have to do anything in return. I guess you just got lucky with this sham marriage by getting a husband who's willing to help you out.”

“Help me out rather well, I should compliment you,” Phil adds. “Does it disappoint you that I don't want to give you one back?”

“Nope,” Dan lies cheerily. “Not at all. I've got hands and plenty of free time to spare and it's all good.”

“I just feel weird touching another guy. I mean, if I had feelings for them, I probably wouldn't, but I'm straight,” Phil says.

“Phil, it's no big deal,” Dan says. “Stop worrying your head about it.”

Phil's next question throws Dan for a loop. “Did you enjoy it?” Well, shit, how the fuck is he supposed to answer this without giving away too much.

“It wasn't as awkward as I thought it would be,” Dan says, a half-truth. Once he hit his stride, it wasn't awkward at all. “It was good to make you feel good. We've agreed to make this marriage as nice as possible, right?”

“Right,” Phil agrees, sounding unnerved. “Okay, well. I mean, next time, you don't have to run off and abandon me.”

“So there's going to be a next time?” Dan pretends to tease, disguising his interest. Phil shrugs one shoulder.

“You're not half-bad and if I ever get bored of my own hand, I can always come to you now, right?”

“I suppose,” Dan drawls out, toying with Phil a little even as his brain reminds him that by saying yes to this, he's just cementing home the fact that nope, he can't back out of this now, he's reached a new echelon of what their relationship is turning into and if he tries to take it back, Phil will know something's up.

So he just gets to ride this out. “Can we go to bed now?” He asks. He wants this conversation to stop. It's too much. He's too close to spilling out truths that would mess it all up and they can't have that.

“Alright,” Phil agrees and closes his eyes. “Did you want to kiss for a bit?”

 _Always_ , thinks Dan. “I suppose,” he says again, casually, as if Phil's mouth isn't fast becoming his favourite thing to experience.

“It's becoming a habit,” Phil comments as he shifts a little closer. “You know, to kiss you goodnight. It felt weird at the thought of going to bed without you,” and Dan pretends his heart doesn't do a tiny little dance there.

“Just cos we both like cuddling. You like having someone to cuddle,” Dan says. He doesn't know why he fucks himself over. He could shut the fuck up, he could let that go, or he could equally risk things and force Phil to chase why he likes kissing Dan, but that would be a treacherous path, and _so many roads, you don't know where you've been_ , that's not a road he should be going down, he doesn't think.

“Yeah, that's always nice,” Phil agrees. He puts his arm over Dan's side and lets it graze over Dan's side and he leans in, kisses Dan. Dan's brain slides away from him and he kisses back and he wants to pull Phil on top of him.

He wants to unwind Phil again. Because the more he unwinds Phil, the more they can do, and maybe the more they do, the more likely it is that Phil will fall for Dan, because isn't that what happened to Dan in the first place?

So he reaches for Phil and pulls, pulls until Phil's coming towards him, rolls onto his back and lets Phil lie half on top of him, deepening the kiss. It's not their normal style of kissing, it's the style that came about today, and he's sure he's going to regret this tomorrow, but he wants more than he can stop himself right now.

“Feeling particularly grabby?” Phil muffledly asks. Dan slides his hands across Phil's back.

“Don't you normally sleep without a shirt?” Dan asks instead. “The same as me?”

“We both normally sleep in nothing but boxers. Would you really want to do that?” Phil returns, and Dan kisses him deep to shut him up. He pulls Phil's shirt up, breaks away long enough to discard it from Phil's body.

“Lemme get my shirt off,” Dan says, and Phil lifts himself up, holds, while Dan squirms out of his top. “Not boxers, but shirtless would be a little more comfortable.”

Definitely not boxers because that's so much of Phil's skin against his and Dan doesn't know if he can handle it. When Phil lowers himself back down onto Dan and kisses him again, Dan can barely handle this much skin on skin contact.

“You're incredibly open for being straight, you know,” Phil comments.

“I've come a long way from 2012,” Dan remarks. “Besides, it's not like we haven't fucking wrestled in our swim trunks, remember Jamaica? We've had a hell of a lot less clothing on and had our bodies touching. This is nothing, this is just getting comfortable for bed and kissing.”

“This is fucking weird as hell,” Phil comments. “We both know it.”

Dan wants to stop Phil from thinking that so he nips at Phil's throat lightly. “You're complaining?”

He gets Phil's head back on the track he wants, which is the track where Dan kisses him and lets his hands wander his upper half.

“Far be it from me to stop you. I enjoy the kissing well enough,” Phil says. “It's just weird to be kissing a guy when you're straight.”

Dan shrugs beneath him. “You're kissing me. I'm Dan, I'm not some guy. You said it yourself, if it was going to be anybody, it'd be me. So just let it be me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Phil agrees. He kisses Dan again and Dan can feel him half-hard in his pyjama bottoms, pressing into his thigh, and Dan's glad as hell that Phil's only half on top of him because he can't feel how Dan's hard as a rock.

“Is that enough kissing for you tonight?” Dan asks after a couple more minutes, when Phil's starting to breathe heavier, to rock his hips against Dan's thigh.

Phil seems to hesitate a fraction of a second too long before he speaks. “I guess so,” he says. “I, um. Yeah.”

Phil falls away from Dan then, his weight no longer tangibly forcing Dan into the mattress and steadying Dan, and Dan's thoughts take flight and begin to race. He lies there, waiting until he can tell Phil's fallen asleep about five minutes later, and then he tucks his face into Phil's shoulder and kisses there, over and over, tiny kisses that are feather-light, thinking to himself, _please like me back someday, please, it would make things so much better, so much easier_.

It could never be that simple, though. But another song slips into his head, unbidden, from Wicked. _I've lost all resistance and crossed some borderline and if it turns out it's over too fast, I'll make every last moment last as long as you're mine_.

They've crossed so many borderlines and Dan just wants Phil to cross one more, to like him back, but it can never be that simple and it's just not going to happen, so he closes his eyes and doesn't sleep easily that night, instead, focusing on Phil's nearness, on what he can have for the next eight months if he's lucky, if he doesn't go and screw it all up. He's balancing on a tight rope with no pole to steady him.

If he stumbles, he'll bring their whole relationship down when he does because Phil finding out that Dan has feelings for him and it'll break everything good that they have between them.

He finds himself wishing, not for the first time, that Vegas had never happened, because look where it's gotten him. It's all too much and it hurts and confuses him.

He rubs the ring on his finger. He rubs it and thinks to himself that he's a fool to even think that Phil might fall for him back because they're both straight, and maybe Dan's fallen for Phil but it's a fluke, and it's not going to be repeated on Phil's end.

He rubs the ring ceaselessly, spinning it on his finger slowly, and eventually he does find sleep, sometime nearing four in the morning at his last check.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeah okay so have some more angst and there's more angst coming up you fools why do you ask for this

One day, Dan decides that he wants to go out to dinner and go out to dinner with Phil. They haven't treated themselves in a while – sure, they get take out and stuff, but not to a nice dinner. He'll even pay and cover Phil's bill.

So he plunks himself down on Phil's bed where Phil's asleep still and wakes him up with his action, making Phil roll onto his back and look at Dan in surprise. “Oh, good morning,” he says softly, yawning.

Then, he reaches up for Dan and catches Dan's shirt at the collar, pulling him down and of course, Dan goes with him and lets him pull Dan in for a quick kiss, releasing him.

“We're going out tonight.” Dan tells him. “We're gonna go out and have a nice dinner and I'm paying because I'm nice that way.”

“Sounds nice,” Phil agrees. “It's been a while since we did something like that, like two or three months.”

“Longer. It's been since my birthday,” Dan comments. He waits for Phil to flinch, to remember exactly what happened after they went out to dinner for his birthday.

Phil doesn't, though he does look startled for a brief second as he thinks about it, but he doesn't flinch. “Well, at least we know we can't end up with anything surprising happening this time, right? I mean, we're not getting nearly as drunk as we did in Vegas.”

“No, definitely not.” Though, to be honest, Dan doubts he'll be that much drinking anything at all. He doesn't need alcohol to loosen his lips or brain just yet.

“It's going to be nice so kind of dress up a little,” Dan adds. “Not like super fancy suits, but a nice shirt and pants please.”

“Sure, only if you agree to wear something that isn't _black_.” Phil shoots back. “Everything nice you own is black.”

“Fine, fine,” Dan says. He might wind up scouring Phil's clothes for something nice to wear then because he really does have a limited number of shirts that aren't black that are nice that he could wear.

Just god help him if they're seen out together because the phangirls will _notice_ he's in Phil's shirt and that will cause a shitstorm. How many times does he have to remind them that they don't share clothes, that ninety percent of the time it's stuff he's just kind of appropriated and never given back and Phil doesn't care enough to ask so now it's really Dan's shirt anyways, and the rest is for skits.

Later that night, Dan emerges from his room wearing slacks and his white shirt with lines all over it, like constellations being connected, and goes to Phil's room. “Hey, get dressed, Philly,” he says cheerfully. “We're leaving in ten minutes.”

“Oh, sure,” Phil says, where he's watching a Youtube video. He gets up and heads over to his wardrobe and searches out something to wear, tugging his top off and pulling on the button-up shirt and Dan tries not to stare too long at Phil's shirtless back.

It's hard being attracted to your flatmate who also happens to be a guy when you have no idea how to cope with these ideas or how to do anything about it. It really is. He's simultaneously turned on by Phil and confused by it.

He turns around quickly and closes the door as Phil unzips his jeans. He's pretty sure staring at Phil's ass is going to make things really complicated on his end.

But when Phil emerges from the bedroom a couple of minutes later, hair brushed, all dressed up, smiling at Dan with a broad smile that shows off his teeth and the way he does the funny sticky tongue thing between them, Dan's breath leaves him and he steps in and for the first time in a very long time kisses Phil without asking.

“You look very nice tonight,” he says as he pulls back. Phil lifts an eyebrow at him.

“I guess thanks. Was that a kiss to tell me that?” Phil asks and Dan nods, suddenly embarrassed by himself. “Did you want one in return? Because you look pretty snazzy too.”

“You don't have to.” Dan says. Phil nods.

“Okay. I know I don't have to.” But he leans in anyways and kisses Dan's cheek, which never fails to make Dan flush because somehow a cheek kiss is just so much more intimate than a mouth kiss and Dan burns and rubs his face and grumbles at Phil, insides churning with delight.

“Let's get a cab,” Dan says, for lack of anything better to do. “I already picked the place and called and made reservations so we don't have to wait.”

They could probably walk there if they wanted, but it's getting nippy enough outside that they don't particularly want to, and so a cab it is, in early November when now they're down to seven months and it blows Dan's mind that he's been married five months, that they only have seven months left.

Somehow, that feels like not long at all. They're almost halfway through this. He wonders how that would make Phil feel to remember that and he brings it up quietly in the cab. “We're five months into this fake marriage thing,” he whispers. “Almost halfway through. Thoughts?”

He's expecting Phil to say something like “relief”. What he gets is “Frustrated. I'm still going to be divorced in seven months time. Which is something I didn't want. We're just putting it off and while I know it's for me to feel better about myself, I don't particularly.”

“We don't – if you're not getting anything out of this the way we'd hoped, we can always end it earlier,” Dan says instantly. He doesn't want to stress Phil out any more than he already is.

“We can keep going,” Phil sighs. “A year was the deal and it's not like I'll feel different either way. I just hate how complicated this is.”

“I know you do. I know how much you hate complicated,” Dan sighs. He rests his head on Phil's shoulder for just a moment and Phil rests his head atop Dan's and there's a moment of physical intimacy. Thank god for the privacy of cabbies who see nothing and hear nothing, unless you're basically having sex right then and there in the cab.

They make it to the restaurant and get their table and sit down and there's mood lighting, soft and dim, making Phil look softer somehow, and Dan tries not to stare too obviously.

They talk amongst themselves while they wait for their waiter and Dan drops his hand below the table and rubs his ring with his thumb, keeping an eye on Phil the entire time. Paying for the dinner, mood lighting, reservations. It's too close to a date for his own good. Why does he let himself slide into these things, why does he even put himself up to them in the first place?

Because he can pretend all he want that it's not but he took Phil out with the full intention of it being as date-like as possible. They order dinner and Dan even risks having his first drink since Vegas, getting wine, Phil opting for white and Dan opting for red, which leads to a discussion over red wine giving Phil hangovers, which Dan says makes no sense because doesn't red wine have the good tannins in it so it should be white wine that gives Phil a hangover.

They bicker playfully, the casual ease of people who have lived together for so long now that it's second nature to them, and they tease throughout dinner as Phil orders a pasta that comes with a sauce he wasn't expecting and he proceeds to, after taking one bite and grimacing, deliberately scrape all of it off before he even attempts the pasta again while Dan indulges in his own meal and tells Phil how tasty it is.

It's a good night and they even stay for dessert, Phil and Dan both going for tiramisu, extravagant in its own way, savouring in the chocolate. On the way home, perhaps loosened by the wine, Phil rests his head on Dan's shoulder in the cab for a good five minutes and Dan closes his eyes.

It's not like he and Phil have never cuddled before in the past – he's a cuddly person and so's Phil and they've slung arms over each other, put legs in lap, even sat like this. But now it means something different and Dan wants it to mean more and it doesn't.

It was like a date tonight because he paid, he took Phil out and bought him a nice dinner and wine and paid and it wasn't a date and it makes him all angry inside that he's gone and confused everything. It could be so easy to just ride out the last seven months without all these feelings. He can't get rid of them either, after all. It's impossible. He and Phil are too intertwined for it to happen.

So he just sits in frustration with Phil's head resting on his shoulder until Phil lifts it up and away and murmurs, “Hey, thanks for dinner,” and they go to bed that night and Dan tries to not think of Phil's nearness as he lies next to his husband who has no feelings for him in return.

 

Song lyrics set him on the path to idiocity again one night. He's listening to Vance Joy's “Mess Is Mine”, and of course most of the lyrics don't mean anything about them, don't relate at all, but then of course, eventually, as all good songs do, they pull at him.

_You're the reason that I feel so strong, the reason that I'm hanging on, you know you gave me all the time, or did I give enough of mine?_

Dan thinks about being strong and hanging on. He thinks about the fact that he got through so much of his life because of Phil. It's obvious to everybody who watches his videos that he's who he's become because of Phil and there's no way around it.

_Hold on darling, this body is yours, this body is yours and mine, well hold on my darling, this mess is yours, now your mess is mine_

And there's the kicker, isn't it? This mess certainly is Phil's, and Phil's mess is Dan's. They've gone and gotten married and Dan's taking on the burden of that mess with Phil, trying to ease things. But it's not like Phil knows what Dan's mess is. He doesn't know the burgeoning feelings of actual romance.

It's fucking weird being attracted to your best friend, it really is. He's been thinking a lot about this over the last couple of days. When you never before in your life have had the urge to feel the flat plane of chest hair, and it's not like Phil's super hairy, but he's got chest hair, or the wide expanse of thighs and thigh muscle, but these are things that Dan kind of thinks about now.

He thinks about them and wonders if he would be willing to do more about them. Would he be willing to do more than handjobs? That thought is scary enough, hell. He was nervous about doing it in the first place and he hasn't done it again and somehow he's still nervous about doing it again.

Dan decides the best way to deal with his problems is by doing the thing that got him in this mess in the first place - he goes out and buys a bottle of Malibu. He supposes now is a hell of a time to go ahead and have some.

He hears Phil in the office doing some editing on a video which means he'll have the lounge to himself as he comes in with the bottle and his mixer for the night.

He pops in a movie and pours himself his first drink. It's a mix of Malibu and orange juice and slides down his throat easily. He has memories of the party he went to with Phil, the photos of him clutching a bottle of Malibu and leaning against Phil, drunk as hell, Phil leaning into him with a small smile on his face. How inseparable they've been over the years.

He tries to keep his thoughts from drifting to Phil. It's getting harder and harder. He never planned on actually falling for Phil of all people. But Phil is everywhere in Dan's life. It's impossible to not think of him. Hell, this is one of Phil's favourite films.

He almost wants to keep the volume low so that Phil doesn't hear it but at the same time, he wants Phil near him, so he turns it up. He can get Phil's attention and Phil can edit another day.

Sure enough, about five minutes later, Phil comes into the room, swinging onto the sofa next to Dan. “Hey, I love this film!” He says sunnily and Dan looks over at him and smiles.

Phil, since Dan has developed these awful frustrating feelings for him, looks so much more Phil-like, so much better. His blue eyes seem to pop simply looking at them and when Phil glances over at Dan, Dan has to look away lest he get sucked down into them.

Phil's always been a touch too pale but there's the hickey that Dan left on his throat and in a way, Dan is pleased for how pale Phil is, because he can just see the hem of the mark peeking out from his shirt and the hickey is almost gone, it's just barely left, and he wants to lean over and remark it up, but he knows he can't do that. Phil would probably freak out.

Phil just looks fucking hot, okay, and Dan stares at him for a few seconds too long after Phil looks back at the film before taking a long swallow of his drink. He can't decide if it's a good idea or a bad idea that he invited Phil unconsciously to join him.

“What do you have there, Dan?” Phil asks, nodding at the glass. Dan shrugs.

“Malibu and orange juice.”

“That sounds disgusting. Coconut and orange juice?” It kind of is, but at the same time it sort of works. It's one of those things that Dan can't tell on yet. He keeps taking a sip and trying to figure out if he likes it, deciding he's not entirely opposed to it, swallowing it, and waiting for the next sip to see if he likes it any better. So far he's swallowed about ten times and still hasn't come to a decision.

Kind of reminds of their situation they've got going on. Kissing, deciding they're not entirely opposed to it, going on, and apparently taking it a step further.

Dan thinks about the handjob. He thinks about how he kind of wants to jerk off Phil right now and if he's already thinking about this with half a drink in him, how bad is he going to get when he's had enough drink in him to get him loose-limbed and loose-lipped?

Hell, he's made a video on it, the five types of drunks, and he's the sexual predator type, flirty and physical. Poor Phil's going to have to contend with that tonight. Maybe Dan will tell Phil he wants some alone time after the movie ends, while he still isn't too drunk, so he _doesn't_ risk ruining their friendship.

That sounds like a plan, in fact.

“Ooh, I love this part!” Phil says, clapping his hand on Dan's thigh and leaning forward in excitement and Dan smiles quietly to himself, at Phil's childlike glee over a scene in a movie, the way he has to actually get it physically out of him.

“Yeah, I love it too,” Dan says. He loves it because Phil loves it and before it was just another good scene in the movie but now it's going to be his absolute favourite scene in this film.

He leans his leg over towards Phil's, lets it touch. Hell, he could do more, he could instigate a cuddle right now. They've shared a bed, Dan's used Phil as a pillow in his lap, Youtube's had Dan sitting on Phil's lap for Rewind 2015, there's plenty of times they've been at parties or interviews and been pretty much on top of each other.

He doesn't think he could handle cuddling right now. So he just lets his leg touch Phil's and his head swims with and he's a twenty-five year old man having all the adolescent swirlings of giddiness in his heart from the sheer touch of leg against leg and it's with someone who doesn't even feel the same way back.

He wants to kind of scream right now for how fucked up this all is.

“Can I have some?” Phil asks. “I mean, not yours, but I'll make my own?” He motions at the drink.

“Go for it,” Dan says. And if he says go for it because he knows Phil gets affectionate when he's drunk, that's just for him to know. He muses about consent and sobriety and decides that he and Phil aren't going to get plastered, not the way they were in Vegas, and consent would still be given if anything happened between them.

They pass the time watching the film and by the end of it, Dan's had a drink and a half and his tolerance is disturbingly low given that he hasn't had any alcohol since Vegas, aside from dinner, and he didn't want to admit it then but even two glasses of wine had started to do him in.

He rests his head on the back of the couch, not quite on Phil's shoulder, just close enough that he can look at the hickey mark on Phil's throat. He thinks about leaning in and biting it and feels his blood rush in him for want to do so.

“Phil,” Dan murmurs a little fuzzily. He's not going to do it. But he is going to do something probably a little stupid. He leans in and kisses Phil's neck, kisses a line from earlobe to throat and back up, and pulls back.

Phil twists and looks at him. “What was that?”

Dan shrugs. “Wanted to be a good husband.” It's a lie that rolls off his tongue easily. It's so easy to fall back on that, to always blame everything he does on good husbandry.

“Oh, I know what's going on,” Phil laughs. He gets Dan too well as usual. “You're getting tipsy and you're getting affectionate except I don't know, we've got this weird new boundary system, and you're-”

“Yeah, shut up,” Dan says, kicking Phil's ankle with his foot. “Shut up.” He's not actually peeved. He just doesn't want Phil to say too much and figure out anything.

“Far be it from me to stop you, if you want to go on kissing. I've told you that your mouth is pretty damn talented,” and Phil swears more when he's tipsy, so Dan notes that and tucks that away in his brain.

“Want me to kiss you?” It's taking a risk that Dan shouldn't be taking.

“I wouldn't say no if you were to continue whatever you were just doing so long as you don't bite like last time,” Phil says. “It feels good enough.”

“Maybe,” Dan says carefully. He should be careful. He's drinking and it's hard enough to not reach over and kiss Phil for real until he gets Phil hard and can take care of the problem for him.

He pours more mixer, a bit more orange juice. Still can't figure out if it tastes good or not. It's like some weird tongue version of Stockholm Syndrome. He doesn't like it and then he does. He drinks faster, wanting to reach the point of not caring any more because he cares too much about what's going on tonight and he's _tired_ of it, he's tired of caring so much about things.

He wants a break. He doesn't care if it's a bad idea.

“You pick what we watch next,” Dan says, handing the remote over to Phil.

“Alright,” Phil says and flips through the television until he finds something on, one of those cooking competitions and it's marathoning on for the next three hours, so that's good enough for Dan.

It's something that'll be on for a while and he won't have to think too hard about plot and he can just let go of his brain. Which is what he does, quite literally, he just takes a sip of a drink and when he swallows, he can almost feel his brain click off.

So he leans against Phil until they're shoulder to shoulder and Phil comments, “How come we never try to cook something like that?”

“What, chicken and shrimp paella?” Dan asks. “Are you fucking joking, Phil? We're lucky we can cook rice without burning down the flat.”

“Yeah, I suppose. But it would be nice.” And just like that, of course, Dan decides that maybe he'll give paella a shot if it would make Phil happy. He's pretty sure he'll fuck it up but at least he can tell Phil he gave it a shot. Hell, maybe he'll even let Phil help.

He thinks about the domesticity of that, of him and Phil cooking together, being in each other's space, asking for Phil to pass him a spice, asking Phil to taste this, see if it tastes right.

What was that he just said about turning his brain off? Because it seems to be going again and Dan takes another long sip of his drink. Stop that, brain, you're supposed to be giving me a break, he chides himself.

Another hour passes and another drink goes down smoothly and finally, _finally_ , Dan's brain seems to finally get on track of not over-thinking things.

Which is why he taps Phil on the shoulder and waits until Phil looks at him before leaning in and kissing him and Phil makes a tiny, muffled noise, before kissing back.

For the first time in a long time, Dan doesn't overthink this. He doesn't wonder what it means to be kissing Phil when Phil isn't attracted to him and what it means to Phil. He just goes with it, kisses Phil with everything he's got until Phil's breathing has gone heavy and fast and Dan slides a hand up Phil's thigh nervously, and Phil only hesitates a second before spreading his legs slightly and yeah, Phil's hard.

 _Should give him a handjob,_ Dan thinks to himself and his brain corrects him with, _no, a blowjob, maybe I can win him over that way._

Wait, what? Back the fuck up, brain, blowjobs?

He breaks away from kissing Phil long enough to cool off because if his brain is going to there, he, one, clearly needs more alcohol to stop it and two, he's surprised that the idea isn't entirely off-putting.

He settles for pretty much chugging the rest of his drink and getting up to refresh the ice in Phil's, getting more ice for himself, adds a lot. He needs to chill off and not think about giving Phil a blowjob. That's a bit too much, right?

Right?

Except maybe it might not be. After all, people give blowjobs all the time and it can't be so difficult if people do it and don't choke. His ex-girlfriend gave him blowjobs and she never choked and he's not particularly short, and he's relatively thick, thank you very much. He's gotten blowjobs from several girls in his life and none of them have ever choked.

It can't be that hard, can it?

It might just be like riding a bicycle – you throw yourself into it and figure it out really fucking quick or you crash and burn and most people figure out how to ride a bicycle without too much problem.

Except this is something he's definitely not going to attempt unless he's at least a little bit drunker because he doesn't think his brain could cope with the fact that he might actually want to blow Phil and go through with it.

Wasn't it just earlier today that he was pondering the logistics of moving past handjobs and now booze has him busy thinking about blowjobs?

“Dan?”

Phil's voice cuts through his train of thought. God, brain, just shut up for the night, stop making me go down these trains of thoughts, Dan thinks bitterly.

“Sorry, what?” Dan asks apologetically.

“You're not paying attention. I mean, obviously you were busy a few minutes ago but we haven't exactly been kissing and the winner is coming up for this episode and you're not even paying attention.” Phil says.

“Yeah, no, I'm sorry,” Dan says, and he sits there and watches the winner of the episode, watches as they play some sad music while the loser who gets voted off leaves, and after it's over, he turns and stares at Phil again.

“Did you want to go back to the kissing?” Dan asks. “I was enjoying that too.”

“You really are a sexual predator when you're drunk,” Phil comments. But he leans back against the couch and looks at Dan expectantly and Dan trepidatiously climbs into Phil's lap and kisses him.

Because it's easy enough to do that. It's easy enough to grind his weight down on Phil and make Phil make that tiny little gasp into his mouth and smirk, he can't help but smirk, do it again and Phil's grinding back, fingers settling on Dan's hips and squeezing.

“Would you think anything weird of me if I told you I wanted to get you off again?” Dan breathes hard into Phil's mouth.

“Well, yes, but I thought you were weird to begin with so don't take it personally,” Phil sasses him and Dan nips Phil's lower lip.

He pulls back. He thinks about every single thing a girl has done to entice him into letting her blow him and hopes to god he can pull this off.

“You should take off your jeans then. Underwear too.”

“Ugh, no, we're not doing this again on the couch. This couch has seen enough. If you're going to jerk me off for whatever reason, we're going to bed.” Phil says.

“Okay, fine,” and Dan doesn't correct Phil yet that no, he plans on blowing him. He kisses Phil and pulls him up as he slides backwards off Phil, and they stumble towards Phil's room because that's where they sleep and so it just seems more natural to go there.

Thank god Phil's tipsy too because he's not calling Dan out on this. Instead, he's undoing his jeans and kicking them off and Dan's pushing up Phil's shirt and kissing his stomach, and then without even pausing because if he pauses he'll _think_ and that will be too much, he looks at Phil and says, “Maybe I don't want to just jerk you off,” and he licks his lips, bites his lower lip, remembers how hot it was when his ex would do that, does his best bedroom eyes gaze at Phil.

 _Christ_ , does Phil figure it out fast. His jaw drops and his eyes widen and he stares at Dan and Dan reaches, curls his fingers around Phil's cock, starts stroking because it'd be better if Phil didn't start over-thinking this too.

“Would you care?” Dan asks, leaning in a little closer, on his knees, on one elbow, still kissing Phil's stomach, and Phil's sucking his breath in and his abdomen is going tight.

“We – we are talking about this afterwards,” Phil insists. Dan takes that as a go-ahead. Maybe they don't have to talk. Maybe they can just, you know, accidentally forget to talk about it. He doesn't want to talk about it.

He does, however, close his eyes and duck down until his mouth bumps over Phil's dick and almost instinctively, he opens his mouth and licks it, uses his hand to angle it up and guide it into his mouth and Phil shudders, gasps.

Well, shit. He knows what Phil tastes like. Phil tastes musky and like salt and skin and it's not nearly as weird as Dan expected. Which actually does a number to quell his nerves.

It turns out that giving a blowjob is, thankfully enough, rather like learning how to ride a bicycle and he does not in fact fail. It's easy enough to let his mouth go wet with saliva and lift up and down, sink and let Phil fill his mouth up, pull back, and his tongue kind of just knows to rub against the underside of Phil's dick as he does.

Phil isn't rough, thankfully. He doesn't try to shove or push Dan's head down. Instead, he just lies there, gasping out panting breaths, occasionally making a soft whine, and Dan has no idea if he's skilled or not, but he's doing something right, anyways, if it's making Phil sound like that.

It takes him only a few minutes of this before Phil suddenly arches his hips, moving them fast, and Dan mentally prepares for Phil to come, wondering just how bad it'll taste, and it turns out that Phil coming on his tongue doesn't taste all that bad either, kind of bitter and thick, but only mild, and because he thinks it would be impolite to spit, he just kind of automatically swallows.

He's accomplished two things in the last ten minutes. One, he's talked Phil into letting Dan blow him and successfully done so and two, he's stunningly sober, or else he's just shocked his brain into being way too coherent when fifteen minutes ago it was swimming.

“Dan,” Phil breathes out. It makes Dan flush to hear the way Phil says his name, sounding like his brain is gone. Then, a second later, he says it again. “Dan.” This time, his voice is harder.

“Phil,” Dan says, wiping his mouth as casually as he can and pretending that the nervous sharp lump hasn't just formed in his stomach. He knows that tone of voice. That is the tone of voice, the _we need to talk_ , and can't they just forget about talking and pretend this is also a thing that can occasionally happen?

But no, they can't. Because Phil's shifting, pulling on his boxers, sitting upright. “Dan, we need to talk.”

Yeah, there it is. Dan stares at Phil and sees it written all over Phil's face. There's the line. He's crossed it. They're having _the talk_ and he can't explain this one away anymore. Which means it's going to come out that he has feelings for Phil.

“No, we don't,” Dan says, a touch too cheerful. Maybe they can just pretend it away.

“Yeah, we do. We're talking about this.” Phil says. His voice is no-nonsense. It's not pleasant. Dan's heart sinks.

Guess not.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soz for the random POV of switch - it'll be Phil's POV for this chapter and the next one, probs. <3

Dan rocks back on his heels and tries to hide the obvious erection still half-flagging despite his sudden nerves.

“What's up?” He asks, still too cheerily. Like he doesn't know exactly what's wrong. He settles down in a sitting position next to Phil, who is covering himself up with his blankets.

“Dan, what the hell was that?” Phil asks, and his gaze is harsh and suddenly not-quite cold but definitely not Phil-like, not warmth and sunshine.

Dan doesn't know how to get himself out of this so he just plays stupid. “I was just being a good husba-”

“For hells sake, stop saying that. Good husbands who are straight don't do that. I can barely even understand a handjob, Dan, but definitely not a blowjob.” Phil says. His tone is flat. “Straight guys don't blow other guys.”

“I just wanted to be good for you,” Dan says. It's not a lie. That much isn't a lie. Maybe he can get out of this by not telling lies, just telling these half-truths.

“Dan, come on, what are you talking about?” Phil asks. “Straight guys. Don't blow other guys.” He repeats it firmly and Dan shrinks, he curls in on himself.

The shock of giving Phil a blowjob has started to fade and the submersion of alcohol is taking over again, making his brain sluggish and loquacious, wanting to let words slip from his lips unbidden.

“Really mean it though,” Dan says. He's not lying and he doesn't want to lie to Phil. So these half-truths will have to do.

“But that's the thing, Dan, whether or not you wanted to be good enough for me, you have to know that guys don't blow other guys unless they're not straight or being forced into it and I definitely wasn't forcing you.” Phil shoves his hands through his hair and messes it up and Dan wants to touch it, smooth it down, hates himself for it, feels the burning in him that this has finally come to a head and is all going to shit.

“Did you enjoy it?” Maybe if he can distract Phil. He's making all the dumb decisions because he's stuporous again.

“Yes, but that's not the point.” Phil says. “I mean, it was a good blowjob, sure, but Dan, what aren't you getting about straight guys-”

“Can't it just be as simple as I wanted to for you?” Dan interrupts and protests. Just let Phil drop the topic, please. Because otherwise it's going to come out. “We're close in weird ways, we're married, it should just be that simple.”

“There's no way in hell it's that simple, Dan,” Phil tells him. “Look, I don't know why you're not telling me the truth but I know you're not telling me the truth.”

Dan glares at Phil now. “Trust me, I'm telling you the truth. I wanted to be good for you.” He's so close to saying too much. If Phil could read between the lines, he'd figure it out.

“Being good for me doesn't require that, though, for gods sakes. Dan, there's a line and you have most definitely crossed it. What's going on?”

Dan shakes his head. “It's no big deal. I won't do it again.” He promises. Now that he knows this is the line, he won't do it again.

“The fact that you did it in the first place is what has me confused at all,” Phil says. “Talk to me. What's going on?”

Dan is silent. He leaves the room and stalks back into the lounge, picks up the Malibu and takes a long gulp and lets the burn wash down his throat. Alcohol got him into this mess and he's done talking about this. He's just going to go back to drinking for the night. He's going to give himself a hangover probably, but who gives a shit.

This is definitely not quite as bad as Vegas but it's not good either. Phil, of course, picks to follow him because once Phil decides he wants to talk about something, he doesn't let it go and so now he's sitting down next to Dan.

“Dan, you're not getting away that easily from me,” Phil says. “Talk to me. Explain why the hell you thought you should blow me?”

Dan stares at him, takes another long swig of the drink. “Because. I wanted. To be good. For you.” He repeats himself slowly, as if Phil is a small child, not understanding, and Phil gives him a flat look. They're a step below arguing.

“What the hell does that even mean?” Phil shoots back quickly. “You're good to me in other ways. You're – what's even been going on with you? You're the one who initiated all the kissing, the handjob that one night, and now you've blown me.”

Dan shrugs. Drinks. His stomach twists – it's too much booze too fast, especially something as sweet as Malibu, and his nerves are wrecked, and it's not a good mix. “So? I won't do it again. It obviously weirds you out.”

“Doesn't it weird you out?”

Dan can't lie to Phil. “No,” he answers simply. Because it honestly didn't weird him out as much as he thought it would. He imagined it would but no, he wasn't weirded out at all. Not once he got down to it. It had been easy, almost.

“Straight guys don't say that.” Phil says. “So what are you saying, Dan? That you're not straight?”

Dan stares directly in front of him, not at Phil, takes yet another sip. He passes it to Phil at this point. “Maybe just a little for you, it turns out,” he finally says. Because it's come to a head and if Phil's asking, he can't deny. He could, but it would be a lie and it'd come out soon enough, so might as well let it come out now. “So I guess this sham marriage changed something in at least one of us.”

He waits for the implosion.

 

Phil stares at Dan, stares at him with lips that are still somewhat more red from sucking him off, fuller than usual, and feels confusion rock through him.

He takes the bottle that Dan proffers and sips it in a jerky motion, fingers shaking. Dan's actually interested in him physically and apparently romantically.

“I don't – I don't feel that way back,” Phil finally gets out. “We shouldn't have even gone this far. I don't have feelings for you.”

“I _know_ ,” Dan hisses. “Why do you think I was drinking tonight? I just didn't want to cope with that fact any more, just for a night.”

“So how long?” Phil asks. “Have you had feelings for me?”

Dan shrugs. “A while. I don't know if I figured it out right away but not long after we started kissing. Long enough that it's been getting worse and worse every day and it's taken everything in me not to tell you and I hate myself for it a little.”

Phil feels something inside him jerk at those last few words. “Don't hate yourself for it, Dan. It's not your fault. I mean, you certainly didn't expect it, did you?” 

“No, but I have these feelings for you. It's so fucking stupid. We go to bed and I kiss you goodnight and I want to curl up against you and wrap an arm over you. I think about making you breakfast in bed so you smile.” Dan reaches and snatches the bottle back from Phil and takes a sip. “I want to be obliterated right now,” he comments off-handedly. “If I can't do it physically, at least I can smash my brains out.”

“Dan, come on, don't turn to alcohol.” Phil protests even as Dan takes another swig. “We can talk about this. I'm not angry. I'm confused and a bit surprised and obviously I feel bad that I don't have feelings for you in return but I don't.”

“I didn't expect you to. I just wish you could look at me like that because I didn't expect to either, Phil, but now when I look at you, I see you in this whole new light, okay?” Dan says sharply. He sets down the bottle. “But it was not your fault but mine, and it was your heart on the line, I really fucked it up this time, didn't I, my dear?”

“What?” Phil asks, confused. He knows those words from somewhere.

“Nothing. Just bullshit song lyrics. Listen to a lot of music lately. You know, music can put into words what you can't do yourself so.” Dan shrugs. “Go away, please.”

“Only if you promise to stop drinking now. I would prefer if you didn't feel like shit in the morning.” Phil says, reaching for the bottle and capping it.

“Kinda wanna feel like shit in the morning. Feel like shit right now.” Dan mutters sharply. Phil risks it, puts an arm around Dan's shoulder and gently squeezes.

“Don't feel like shit, bear,” and he was only trying to make Dan feel better but that was so not the right time to use that term.

Dan glances at him sharply, slides out from under Phil's arm. “Don't call me that. Not right now. You know how much that nickname means to me.”

“I only – I only meant it to try and make you feel better. The same way you try to be good for me, I guess,” Phil protests.

“But you're not trying to be good for me the same way I'm trying to be good for you,” Dan shoots back. “Now that you know. Now you know exactly _why_ I was trying so hard to be a good husband.”

“Dan,” Phil says softly. He reaches over and touches Dan's arm. In his brain, he almost feels like this is one of those moments where he should kiss Dan to dispel the frustration because they've been kissing each other when they can tell the other is frustrated, not just at night or in the mornings when they wake up.

It should startle him that he thinks that. It does, in a way. It confuses him in the way he's been confused since they started kissing, confused him in the way that he's not been totally against kissing. Clearly, given that there have been several times that he and Dan have now gotten rather grabby even just with the kissing.

Hell, he thinks about the baking video, the way he physically picked up Dan and propped him on the counter so that he could sneak his way between Dan's legs and get in closer to him. He'd wanted that kissing. He hadn't understood the reason why, but he'd wanted it. He'd been enjoying himself and probably would have gone right on kissing Dan until the entire half-hour of the dough chilling was up if Dan hadn't cracked his head on the cupboard.

But he's not romantically interested in Dan. Dan's just his best friend and has been for so many years now.

“I'm going to bed,” Dan announces. He stands up, a bit off balance from the alcohol in his system, and heads towards Phil's room. Phil wonders what that means, that Dan still is planning on sleeping with Phil that night.

“Do you want me to join you?” Phil asks, following him. He feels almost a bit lost now, like he needs to be around Dan at that moment, which only serves to confuse him more. But he just wants to soothe Dan, who is clearly infuriated with himself for having developed feelings for Phil. It's not Dan's fault and he wants Dan to know that.

“I don't care.” Dan says. He shucks off his shirt and changes from jeans to sweatpants in front of Phil, who looks at the turned back of his friend and finally finds clothing of his own for bed.

He follows Dan as Dan goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and Phil brushes his own teeth and he looks at the pair of them in the mirror, shirtless, near each other, and he drops his chin to Dan's shoulder. “I don't mind,” Phil tells Dan. That much is true. He's not homophobic. He's fine with Dan having feelings for him. He just wishes he could return them, because it would make it easier on Dan.

“I'm sure you don't, you're too good a fucking person for that,” Dan mutters forcefully around a mouthful of foam, a few flecks spattering the mirror. “Christ.” Dan says, wipes the flecks with his fingers, smearing it. “I'll clean the mirror tomorrow.”

“Dan, please calm down.” Phil says, a little nervously, a little desperately. “Don't go and get all worked up before bed, you know you won't sleep.”

“Don't be a mother hen,” Dan shoots back. He spits out the mouthful of foam and rinses his mouth off, wiping it with the back of his hand and Phil does the same, takes out his contacts quickly, following Dan back to the bedroom.

They crawl into bed, silent, and lie there, and Phil listens to Dan's breathing, knows that after fifteen minutes, he's not asleep yet. “Dan?” Phil asks. He's been thinking about something.

“What?” Dan asks flatly.

“Can – can I kiss you?” Even if he doesn't have feelings for Dan, he can at least try and help out Dan as best he can. He likes the kissing and if it makes Dan feel better, then he doesn't mind doing it.

“If you want,” Dan says, sounding torn, sounding like he's trying not to be interested and yet Phil can read Dan well enough to know that he is interested, just very confused.

“Roll on your side,” Phil says, and he does the same, facing Dan. In the darkness, he can only barely see Dan and Dan looks tremulous. He noses over, closes the tiny distance between them, kisses Dan.

Dan kisses back limpidly. He doesn't kiss the way he normally kisses, which is sweet and enthusiastic, especially as of late, which makes sense if he actually has feelings for Phil. This kiss is half-hearted.

“I, um.” Phil says. “I don't have any interest in touching you but – if you wanted to jerk off while we kissed, I think I'd be okay with that.”

Distantly, he thinks to himself that _that_ is not normal but they're so far off course from normal now that he's pretty sure they're just feeling it out as they go.

“Don't pity me,” Dan says, tone dangerous. “I'm not some charity case,” and here Phil pushes forward and closes the distance between them again, kissing firmly.

“I know that, Dan. I'm trying to be a good husband too,” Phil says, and that's the truth. He wants to at least let Dan feel as good as Dan can because it's not Dan's fault that Phil doesn't have feelings for him.

“Fine,” Dan says, and he kisses back but it's not a sweet kiss. It's an angry kiss and Phil doesn't know how to quell it. But Dan's got his hand down the front of his sweats and he's stroking himself, Phil can hear and feel it, and Dan's kisses are sharp and nipping at Phil's lip, stinging, and Phil tries to soothe Dan with gentler kisses, but it's no good.

It should be weirder than it is, kissing Dan while Dan jerks himself off. It's weird only slightly – the only part that's weird is Dan actually touching himself, the kissing itself is fine, and Phil wonders if Dan's even enjoying himself, as it only takes Dan a couple of minutes before he comes, pulling away from Phil, no pretense of building himself up and teasing, just jerking off relentlessly until he was done.

What really surprises Phil is that Dan, when he comes, makes tiny whining noises, against his own attempts to be quiet, because Phil knows Dan isn't exactly silent in bed – he's heard Dan a few times when Dan's had a girl over, though Dan's not _loud_ , per se, just he's not quiet, but here Dan makes soft noises that sound like he's straining to bite back moans and Phil's surprised at how much he kind of wants to hear Dan moaning, because that would be Dan being authentic and pure and honestly, it's not like Dan sounds bad when he's worked up – Phil's heard Dan worked up from their kissing before and it's not like he hasn't taken some pleasure in that fact either.

“This would all just be so fucking simpler if I hadn't fallen for you. Or if you could just look at me the same way. I didn't fucking plan on this.” Dan curses as he wipes his hand off on his sweatpants. “Go to bed. I don't want to talk anymore. Or kiss. Or anything. I just want to not be awake.”

Phil hurts inside for Dan and he doesn't know how to fix it.

 

It's the next day and Dan is still sleeping in his bed when Phil wakes up first and creeps out of bed. He doesn't want to wake up Dan – let Dan sleep as long as he can. He's sure Dan's going to be at least slightly hungover today and sleeping it off might help a little.

Oh a whim, Phil gets a glass of water and some paracetamol for Dan and places them on the night stand with a note that reads “Take me please :)” and sneaks away again as quietly as he can.

He's not quite sure what to do with himself. He wanders the flat, finds himself in Dan's room. Finds himself looking at Dan's diary, wondering if Dan wrote anything about him in there.

He knows it's a breach of privacy but as he looks at it, he sees the last couple pages are opened and dated and there's words, yes, but not words about what's going on in Dan's head. They're song lyrics.

 _I just wanna make you laugh, I just wanna see that smile, we're only here, oh, only for a little while, I just wanna hold you till we fall asleep, I want love, I want us, I want you, I want me, I want peace_.

Then a break, a few dashes to separate what must be a new song lyric, and yeah, _the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day_ , another set of dashes separating the next song lyrics, dated two days ago.

_You can hide, hold on to all your feelings inside, you can try to carry on when all you want to do is cry; and I don't want to wait, I just want to know, I just want to hear you tell me so give it to me straight, give it to me slow; cos sometimes we don't really notice just how good it can get, so maybe we should start over, start all over again_

Phil's curious about those lyrics – he knows them but he knows they're not exactly right and he looks up the first bit, finds that it's snippets from a song, it looks like Dan has picked and chosen certain phrases that resonate with him.

He smiles though. Dan certainly has a way of finding lyrics that describe their situation oh so well. It's heartbreaking in a way.

The most recently dated entry is more song lyrics. _You've been the only thing that's right in all I've done and I can barely look at you but every single time I do_

and Dan obviously hasn't finished the lyrics because Phil _knows_ that song, and he knows what it means, it's Dan's doubts and insecurities about him and Phil, because these lyrics are obviously about them. He knows the song like the back of his heart because he used to listen to it on repeat when he was younger.

So he picks up Dan's pen and hopes that Dan doesn't kill him for reading his diary of sorts and he writes down, _I know we'll make it anywhere away from here, light up, light up, as if you had a choice, even if you cannot hear my voice, I'll be right beside you_.

It's Phil's way of telling Dan that they're going to be okay.

He sets the pen back down and leaves the diary where he found it and goes and makes himself something to eat. Dan wakes up around half past noon, bringing the empty glass of water into the kitchen with him, murmuring a hasty, “Thanks for taking care of me,” not meeting Phil's eyes.

Phil wants him to know that they're okay. He doesn't know how to say it though, besides telling Dan outright, and he knows Dan won't believe him.

 

It's the next day when Dan calls him out on it. Phil's in the lounge watching television when Dan comes into the room and, louder than Phil expects it, says, “Did you go through my diary?”

He sounds angry, almost hurt.

“What? No, I didn't go through it, I mean, I went in your room and it was sitting open and I looked at the pages that were open but I promise I didn't go _through_ it. I just – I knew the song and I, um.” Phil pauses. “It seemed like you might have been trying to say something with those song lyrics so I just wanted to … say something back.”

“You wanted to say something back.” Dan says. “Phil, what you wrote implies that things are okay when they're so far from okay. Do you even realise what I've done?”

Phil turns to look at Dan. “What have you done?”

Dan stares at him, incredulously. “I've gone and gotten feelings for you, I've crossed boundaries that I should never have crossed, and I've screwed everything up.”

Phil shakes his head. “Nope, no, you haven't. We're fine.”

“No, we're not, Phil!” Dan protests. “It's going to be awful and awkward now that I have feelings for you when you don't have them back for me and you're probably going to go to bed thinking I'm some kind of sexual predator given that I drunkenly coerced you into letting me blow you and-”

Phil shuts him up there, raising a hand, raising one finger. “Don't you go turning yourself into a martyr, Dan. I was tipsy but I wasn't drunk and I was turned on and it was not expected and not something I plan on doing again but it wasn't exactly unpleasant, you fluffnut,” and Dan mouths, “fluffnut?” staring at him.

“Okay, fine, so it was a weird occurrence that apparently you're fine with somehow. But I've still gone and screwed everything up.” Dan says, sounding desolate.

Phil actually kind of wants to kiss Dan right then and there because if it would help, if it would get Dan's brain off his crisis mode, then he'd happily do it. Kissing Dan isn't half-bad.

Phil muses to himself that on some level, he is attracted to Dan to some extent. The kissing, letting Dan jerk him off and blow him. There's got to be some level of attraction – it starts with the kissing and ends in him being worked up enough to let it go that far, but that's still something.

He wonders if he could ever make himself like Dan. After all, there are certain qualities he looks for in a girlfriend. Attractive, obviously, which is a subjective thing, but attractiveness nonetheless and he's the first to admit that Dan has grown from a cute teenage boy to a very good-looking twenty-five year old.

Kind-hearted, and oh, if Dan isn't one of the kindest souls that Phil knows. Dan greets every fan with the same enthusiasm as he has the last, he's the one who started #nicerinternet, he's unfailingly there for Phil – these last five months have certainly shown as much, and so there's that.

Funny. Dan's funny as hell. Phil and him have shared more laughs together than Phil's ever shared with anybody else and sure, some of it is simply because they live together and spend so much time together, but still, Dan can always make Phil laugh, and Dan's laughter can set off Phil.

Comfortableness. Phil needs to be comfortable with someone, to feel secure down the road, like he knows he can be himself and they're not going to judge him. He and Dan sure have that down pat – after all, he's meowed and woofed at Dan in videos, he's made scrawky noises of some silly animal he's imitating, and Dan's never done anything but laugh at him and adore him as a friend anyways.

Dan's seen Phil at his worst and has taken him all in and told Phil that Phil's the best thing to ever have happened to him anyways and meant it every single time. It's almost incredible how tight their friendship is and how comfortable Phil is. He doesn't think there's a single thing he could do in front of Dan that he'd be embarrassed by.

Being willing to give and take, compromise. After living together so long, Phil and Dan have long since learned every single compromise they need between themselves and are so comfortable with each other that way that even when one of them is being ridiculous and whining and trying to get their way, there's still some ebb and flow going on where they're reading each other and compromising on some level.

Similar taste in movies and music and for gods sakes, they have that. They've announced to the world about how they wait for each other to wake up to eat breakfast and watch anime together. They've made a Muse music video together. They've hosted a radio show and while they tease each other with the songs they pick for the Seven Second Challenge, at the end of the day, they still enjoy each other's taste in music and as for movies, they get on fine there.

It's simple stuff, really, things that Phil thinks anybody would have an interest in for finding a partner, but after all, Dan really fits all of those things. He's just – straight. That's the only thing stopping him from actually liking Dan. Because he's pretty sure that if it weren't for that little niggling factor, he could probably like Dan back.

But Dan was straight – hell, he probably still considers himself straight. Just apparently he's into Phil. Phil knows Dan well enough to know that even if Dan is attracted to Phil, he's not going to go around reclassifying himself as bisexual. Phil's a special case.

Dan's a special case too, to Phil. Phil can't imagine letting anybody else kiss him who's also a guy, or any of the other stuff they've done. Dan's special to Phil in ways that he can never probably form into words, on whatever level they're at. Dan and Phil, the two of them, they've got something intangible between them that Phil's never experienced and he doubts very few people will ever experience. They've got something special.

He really wonders if he could trick himself into liking Dan. Sometimes he thinks he has ridiculous ideas. This is one of them. But he decides that for twenty-four hours, he's going to do his best to push away all his concepts of sexuality and preference and interact with Dan the exact same way they've always interacted and think about if maybe, just maybe, he can make things better by finding a way to like Dan back.

Because that would certainly make things simpler. It would be easier on Dan. It would be easier on this fake marriage thing. It would make the seven months go by a hell of a lot faster. Phil's still planning on divorcing Dan in seven months time, after all, because even if he did like Dan back somehow, he doesn't think he'd be ready to be married to Dan.

“Dan, come join me,” Phil requests, turning and smiling at Dan. He peers at Dan, takes in his soft brown eyes, the way that Dan stares a moment too long back at him, and now he knows why, and he takes in Dan's slim, lanky frame, and debates it for a moment, decides that it's not unattractive, he likes slim and lanky on Dan, and when Dan joins him on the couch, Phil smiles at him.

“We're okay, Dan,” he repeats. “Don't worry.”

Dan offers him the shakiest of smiles and Phil decides on a trick he's learned, leans in and kisses Dan's cheek. He doesn't mind it at all. Dan swipes at his cheek and grumbles but his frame goes less tense. Phil's grateful for that.

So that's that. He looks at the clock. It's quarter to two in the afternoon. Twenty-four hours of him re-examining everything he knows about himself starts now. He wonders if he can trick himself into feeling for Dan the same way that Dan feels for him.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Phil's decided on wanting to do a “Lord of the Rings” marathon, which he's only just started, about fifteen minutes into the film, when Dan had come in and asked him about his diary and started Phil on this interesting little series of thoughts, so he restarts the film from where he'd paused it.

“We're gonna see how much of the three films we can get through before bed,” Phil says. “Think we can manage all three?”

“No, _no_ ,” Dan protests. “No, because that means that between eating and going to the bathroom and the fact that these are the extended editions, it'll take us until like, four in the morning and I am not willing to go through eleven hours or more of these films. We can do the first two and then take a break.”

There's compromise, then. Dan's still willing to put up with Phil's ridiculous idea and is compromising, and Phil grins at him, watches the way that Dan actually flushes under Phil's grin. He can see the pink rise in Dan's cheek, the way it flushes around that little freckle he has.

“Besides, we've been almost going to bed at reasonable times as of late, let's not screw that up, we're _almost_ something akin to functioning adults,” Dan jokes and Phil starts to chuckle. It's true, they've been getting into bed at some time around midnight lately instead of three or four in the morning.

In a way, that's kind of a testament to Phil – he gets sleepier before Dan and Dan comes to bed with him, and obviously now Phil knows why, because Dan wanted to be near Phil, but hey, if it gets them on a healthier sleep schedule, then that's not an entirely bad thing.

“Dan,” Phil asks carefully. “Did you want to stop the kissing?” He wants to bring this up because, well, frankly, he doesn't mind the kissing at all. He's thought that to himself several times now and isn't part of going to the cinema with someone you like, doesn't that usually end in necking in the back rows of a movie theatre? And there are certainly a few scenes in the films that aren't super interesting, where he could lean over and kiss Dan for a few minutes.

Phil wonders just why he's so comfortable with the concept of kissing Dan. “Because, um, I was thinking, like, you know there's a few bits when nothing super exciting is happening, if you wanted to pass the time that way,” and he stops, looking at Dan nervously.

Dan's the wild card here now, now that his feelings are out in the open, he's the one who's going to shut down on Phil if he gets upset.

Dan's gaping at Phil, to be perfectly frank. His eyes are wide. “Okay, you need to stop fucking around,” Dan says. “Can we still kiss?”

“Yeah, I mean,” and they're missing the movie again but that's okay, because the first half an hour is kind of slow anyways, just the party and exposition, and it only really matters if you've never seen the films before but they've seen them half a dozen times at least. “Like now, it's just the party scene and it's funny and all but, um, I know you like me and probably want to kiss me so if I was comfortable with it,” and Phil stops again.

Dan's face is torn between something that Phil can't read. Not anger, not hurt, maybe something like frustration and want at the same time. “Once again, Phil, you need to stop fucking around. You can't just go asking me that when you know what it means to me now.”

Phil contemplates that for a minute. Then he leans over and kisses Dan. He knows how to fit his hands under Dan's elbows, on his sides, and Dan doesn't protest – he didn't think Dan would have it in him to protest, to be honest, because Dan has a hard time saying no to the things he wants – and Phil pulls Dan a little closer.

“Just Merry and Pippin washing plates and silverware,” Phil murmurs, and Dan mutters back, “But it's forced perspective, we could be talking about how they had to use forced perspective to make everything look the right height,” and that's something Phil hadn't thought about.

Nerdiness – he likes someone who knows interesting things about stuff he's interested in. He likes that Dan remembers how they had to use forced perspective and build strangely made sets that had to be shot from certain angles to make it look right.

Dan's got that quality in him, alright, and Phil kisses him a little more tightly. “They had the scene with Frodo and Gandalf,” he mumbles around the kiss, “and they had Elijah sitting back like a few feet from Ian, didn't they,” and Dan's humming, pulling away.

“What's going on? Why are you doing that?” Dan asks. He looks hurt now.

Phil can't bring it in him to hurt Dan. “Just give me twenty-four hours. Trust me for twenty-four hours for whatever I do, and I'll tell you then. It's me figuring stuff out hopefully. But just trust me. I won't do anything you don't want.”

“What makes you think I want the kissing still?” Dan dares him. Phil tilts his head and looks at him.

“Do you not want the kissing?” Phil asks softly. His hands slide away from Dan's side, one of them finds Dan's hand and covers it and squeezes it softly, and Dan's hands are warm and soft and Phil likes them too.

Dan opens his mouth in an expression of tired resignation. “I … I do, but just. We shouldn't.”

Phil understands Dan's doubts. “Twenty-four hours. We can stop for good in twenty-four hours if what I'm trying to figure out doesn't work out, okay? Never again. Just think of it this way – you get twenty-four hours to kiss me.”

Dan has at least the effort to give him a half-hearted smile. “You got me there, I guess.”

“In fact,” Phil says. “Twenty-four hours for you to be as tactile with me as you want. I kind of _want_ you to, in fact. Like, if you want to cuddle me, go ahead. I will be completely complicit in all your affections.”

“Why?”

Phil taps the side of his nose – isn't that what they do in suspense or detective mysteries – and smiles at Dan, who just looks confused by him. “I'll tell you in-”

“Twenty-four hours, for gods sakes, fine, stop saying that, you sound like some wise old guru trying to implant wisdom. Young grasshopper and all that bullshit.” Dan grouches and Phil laughs at him.

There's the laughter part come easy. Even in this weird, sort of tense time, Dan can make him laugh.

“Come on, then, what do you want to do?” Dan asks. “Watch this movie or kiss me and let me cuddle you?”

Phil thinks about it. “Both?” He wouldn't mind cuddling with Dan even platonically. Dan's good for that to begin with.

Dan sighs and stretches out his arm around the back of the couch, tugs Phil over towards him, and Phil leans against Dan's side, lets Dan's arm drop around his shoulder. He rests his head on Dan's shoulder and looks at Dan's neck.

Dan's certainly given Phil's throat a few kisses and it felt nice enough. He wants to make Dan not so upset and Phil cranes himself a little so that he can keep one eye on the film while he mouths loosely, lazily at Dan's throat.

Dan makes a startled noise, something that turns into a little whine, and Phil mutters, “Don't fight me, enjoy yourself if you want,” and it only takes a moment more for Dan to expose his neck to Phil.

Phil closes his eyes and wonders just what he's doing. He turns and kisses Dan's throat more readily, kisses soft skin, smells the body wash that Dan used, inhales it and finds it tangling up in his brain in a confused muddle of thoughts and feelings.

He pulls back and rests his head again on Dan's shoulder and resumes watching the movie. Everything is fine, nothing is wrong in his head, and somehow he feels like something should feel wrong in his head but it doesn't.

What should be a burst of confusion comes and Phil, reminding himself of twenty-four hours of not over-thinking things, of just seeing if he can see Dan the same way back, lets it come and pushes it away, and thinks, _Normal_ , _it could be normal to do that._

 _It could be normal to lean in and nibble at Dan's throat if he wanted me to._ That's a thought and Phil thinks about it, thinks about the way Dan reacted. It certainly got him a nice little noise that pleased Phil. After all, it's nice to know your partner feels good and apparently Phil did something good for Dan there.

He could do it again if he wanted. But the movie's starting to get good now and Phil would rather pay attention to the movie so instead he just rests his head on Dan's shoulder, where he's comfortable, and lets his hand come to cover Dan's and squeeze gently again. It's nice, holding hands with Dan.

Dan has slim fingers that fit between Phil's easily and Phil's not sure if Dan realises it but when he's not paying attention, he thumbs over the top of Phil's hand absent-mindedly. Or maybe Dan does realise he's doing it because he's sure Dan's hyper-aware of what's going on. Either way, Phil enjoys it.

“What you're doing is nice,” Phil comments as Frodo and Sam set out together on the beginning of their quest. “The way you're just sweeping your thumb over my skin on my hand. I like it.”

Dan's finger stills momentarily and then starts again. “I'm glad?” He returns, sounding more confused than anything. Phil kind of feels bad for Dan because he thinks that Dan's going to be pretty confused for the next day if what Phil's doing is anything to go by.

There's the rest of the movie that they actually cuddle, with eventually Phil sliding down to rest his head in Dan's lap, where the hobbits get chased by the Ringwraiths, where they meet Aragorn in the pub, the pillow stabbing scenes, and Dan gets Phil laughing again by imitating the commentary they've seen a few times, “The hobbits are _PILLOWS!”_ and he does it with perfect inflection of his voice, sarcastic and amazed at the same time, and Phil's laughing so hard at him that he has to muffle himself against Dan's stomach.

“Shut up, I'm trying to watch a film here, Phil,” Dan says affectionately, a moment later, and Phil, face pressed to Dan's stomach, very carefully kisses there too through his shirt fabric. “What are you doing now?”

It's just a single, simple kiss and Phil shrugs, rolls back on his side. “Felt like something I wanted to do.”

Dan breathes in heavily and sighs. Phil kind of has to pretend that he doesn't notice that Dan's just slightly hard, that he can feel Dan's dick kind of rising slowly. He's pretty sure his face being so close to Dan's lap has plenty to do with it, and so he only moves enough so that his head is resting on Dan's stomach. “Slump down a bit, make a better pillow that way,” and Dan does as Phil requests.

“S'ok if I pet your hair?” Dan asks. “If I'm allowed to do whatever I want for twenty-four hours?”

Phil nods. “Sure.” He likes affection. He likes having someone tangle their fingers up in his hair and play with it. Dan reaches and strokes, fingers working in and out of his short tips at the front, smoothing it and messing it up, over and over, and eventually he thumbs across Phil's temple and settles his hand on the top of Phil's head.

It's nice. Phil doesn't mind at all. He quite likes it, in fact. They watch through the meeting of the council, of the fight, of Frodo standing up and shouting that he will take the ring to Mordor, and he actually looks up at just the right moment to catch Dan looking a bit sniffly.

“You're not getting all emotional, are you?” Phil asks, amused.

“Frodo has no idea what he's going to go through, okay? He has no idea what's ahead of him, it makes me sad.” Dan says, and he lifts a hand and swipes at his eyes. “This scene always gets me because he's doing it out of desperation, because someone has to do this, but he doesn't know what's going to come.”

Those words strike home with Phil. He thinks he could take everything Dan just said and apply it to what they're doing now, and as the scene fades to black and a note informs them that the rest of the film continues on disc two, Phil sits upright and kisses Dan hard.

“Don't get all sniffly and sad. He got to go somewhere good in the end, remember? Him and Sam went off together in the end, didn't they? I think Sam went after he lived in the Shire for a while.” Phil says. He's not positive on that last bit but he remembers wondering what happened to Sam after the film ended and looking it up once.

“Gimli went too, with Legolas.” Dan adds. “I know that much. They went to the Grey Havens.”

“Yeah, they were pretty much best friends, weren't they. Never expected that, I bet.” Phil says. He's still close to Dan and Dan's looking at him with soft, sad brown eyes, and Phil reaches, cups Dan's face. “Don't be sad, Dan. It'll all work out in the end. I promise. That's the way all good stories do.”

“Not true, some good stories end sadly. Like _Flowers for Algernon_ . Or _Never Let Me Go_.” Dan says. “Some stories, good as they are, have sad endings.” Of course he'd know those stories, the sad ones, because Dan's always been a bit of a sucker for things that cause you to wind up thinking about the disparity of life.

“But aren't they made better for it by being sad? Because they pull you in and leave you longing for something more?” Phil asks. He busies himself with popping in the second disc and then returning to the couch. “But no, I like to think most stories that are good have happy endings. I like to think this one does.”

He's referring to both the movie and their lives and he wonders if Dan knows how to read between the lines enough to catch that. Phil kisses him again, soft. He wants Dan to respond, he wants relaxed Dan, comfortable Dan, kissing him back.

Besides, after this, there's not much time in the movies that there's not an action sequence, there's not going to be a lot of time for kissing, and Phil kind of wants to kiss Dan for a little bit and see how it makes him feel.

How it makes him feel is all twisty inside, like it normally does, where he's not sure what it should mean but somehow it feels good, and when Dan murmurs, “As complicit as I want?”, questioning just how far he can take it, Phil nods his assent and carries on kissing him.

He finds Dan pulling Phil into his lap, stretching them out on the couch, and for long minutes, they lazily kiss that way, Dan running his hands up and down Phil's back, until finally he breaks away and lets his head fall back on the couch with a long sigh.

“You're making me absolutely crazy.” Dan comments off-handedly. He runs his fingers through Phil's hair. “Just hit play, let's watch the damn movie.”

So they lay there, Phil on top of Dan, and Dan's got his arm around Phil, and Phil's resting his head in the crook of Dan's neck, watching the film, until Dan has to pee, so Phil slides off of him and lets Dan get up.

When he returns, Phil gets up to start dinner. “Pause the movie, come help me?” He asks. He thinks about cooking with your partner, making a nice dinner together, sharing tasks of preparing food together. It's something he'd want to do.

Dan can help him by keeping an eye on the rice while Phil sets about making hamburger patties and cooking them.

There's a strange tautness between them – they don't quite fool around in the kitchen like they normally do if they're both cooking, don't have the same witty banter, but it's not unpleasant, until finally Dan speaks.

“The last time I helped you cook, you cracked my head on this cabinet,” he says, tapping it. “I'm not sure I've entirely recovered yet. If I have lasting brain damage, it's on you.”

“You're cracked.” Phil shoots back and Dan grins at him, bright and beautiful in his own way, and Phil looks at his smile, the way it creases his cheeks and dimples them out, crinkles up his eyes at the corners, and he thinks about kissing Dan's cheek. He doesn't. But he thinks about it, and he smiles to himself, and then he smiles back at Dan.

Dan does his job of checking the rice as it simmers, adding in spices after a few minutes and the water, and then leans against the fridge, watching as Phil sets about pan-frying hamburger patties for them.

They cook dinner and they finish the first movie and pop in the second, and there's no more kissing, but there is a snack that Dan makes of popcorn which he lets Phil have most of, “because you love popcorn” and it's little things like that – Phil thinks – that he'd want in a partner.

Because Dan knows how much Phil loves popcorn and makes it for him just so Phil can enjoy it and brings it to him when Phil's not expecting it, and Phil feels warmth spread throughout him over Dan's actions.

It's not even been four hours and already Dan has pretty much lived up to every single role in those four hours that are the major components of what Phil looks for in a partner, plus he's managed to just make Phil feel good in general.

Phil finds himself staring at Dan in intermittent moments, taking in Dan's expression as he watches the film. Dan's aesthetically pleasing, he thinks to himself. Dan's got lovely brown eyes and his hair is cut stylishly and his face is angular enough to be handsome but almost delicate.

Phil kisses Dan's cheek once more to see him blush and it makes him smile and he reaches for Dan's hand again and holds it. Then, when the end of the second film plays, they get up and take a break and wash up from dinner, and Dan glances at the clock, which reads just after eleven, and declares the marathon to be over for the night.

“Besides, as much as I like you, I need a break from Phil. You've been constantly kissing me and touching me and it's actually, well, fucking with my head a little.” Dan comments. Phil can understand that. It's fucking with his head too. He's quickly coming to a realisation that he doesn't actually mind it at all, that he kind of wants that much from Dan.

So they go their separate ways until bed, when Phil's already in bed in his pyjamas, not sure if Dan would join him that night, sleeping, when he awakens to Dan's body sliding in the sheets next to him and Phil rolls over.

“Know you said it was fucking with your head a bit but can I cuddle you?” Phil asks. He's got to be tactile for this to work. He's got to push past all his boundaries. He's forced away every single thought so far today that said _You're straight, remember?_ and he's letting himself break down boundaries.

“Only if you do it quietly so I can go to bed,” Dan says. Phil peers at the clock. Almost three in the morning.

“What happened to going to bed at reasonable times like adults?” Phil asks, wrapping an arm over Dan, who curls back against him.

“Pokemon Mystery Dungeon,” Dan says and Phil snickers, muffling his noise into Dan's shoulder. He thinks about how it should be weird to be cuddling Dan when they're half-naked. It's not weird at all.

There's a lot of stuff that should be weird that isn't weird and Phil's starting to think maybe he's been changing without realising it in the last few weeks.

The next day brings him waking up at a little past eleven while Dan sleeps soundly. Phil thinks about that. Just a little over three hours left to figure out how he feels about Dan.

He thinks he knows. He thinks maybe, just maybe, everything they do feels right because it is right, that maybe he can give this a shot. It might take a while to fully come around but maybe this is okay.

Dan's curled up against Phil in his sleep, face tucked up under Phil's jaw, and Phil wants to kiss him awake and Phil wants to do something sweet for Dan and see Dan's smile and so he settles on the latter part coming first, going downstairs and making them breakfast, doing a better job at omelettes this time around, bringing it back upstairs on two plates and carefully balancing as he leans in and presses his mouth to Dan's.

Dan yawns and half-snores, half-snorts as he wakes up and even though Phil starts giggling, it doesn't put him off Dan any. It's completely embarrassing of a noise and it's completely Dan to wake up that way and make Phil laugh and Phil waits until Dan's eyes are opened before he offers the food to Dan.

“Breakfast in bed? We haven't done that in a couple of weeks. I did a better job on the omelettes this time.”

Dan takes the plate and silverware and lets Phil get comfortable in bed and he leans his weight against Phil's as they sit in bed together and Phil pulls up a video on his phone.

“So twenty-four hours are almost up. You going to tell me what the hell's going on?” Dan asks, in between bites of egg and bacon and toast.

“Turns out I don't need the entire twenty-four hours,” Phil answers. “I'll tell you what's going on after breakfast.”

Mainly because he's kind of curious about what might happen if he admits to Dan that he might actually be interested in testing the waters of maybe being attracted to him in return. He kind of wants to see what happens if he dares be physical with Dan beyond kissing, if his own nerves will fray and snap or if they'll hold out.

So they eat and Phil takes their plates and washes them up and lets the pans soak and tells Dan to stay in bed while he does all that and when he comes back, Dan's on his own phone.

“Okay, so, breakfast is over, so talk,” Dan says, setting his own phone down.

“Alright. Well, basically – I was doing some thinking about what I want in someone I'm dating and, well, you basically meet all those requirements and I just was wondering maybe I could get past the fact that you're a guy. Because, I mean, on some level I've got to be attracted to you, right? Given that I enjoy the kissing and, um. I enjoyed the handjob and blowjob.” Phil says softly.

Dan's watching him with a guarded expression. “So what was the last twenty-four hours, just fucking with my head while you tested your sexuality?”

“I wasn't trying to fuck with your head, Dan. I just – I wanted to test myself, yeah,” Phil explains. “I mean, I was just thinking about the fact that everything you do is stuff that I look for in a partner to begin with, that if I were to have a girlfriend, I'd want her to be funny and smart and kind and attractive and good at kissing and, well, you're all those things.”

“I feel like there's a 'but' coming,” Dan says. He peers at Phil. “And I don't appreciate being a guinea pig for testing purposes, let me just make that clear.”

“Won't happen again without informed consent,” Phil promises him. “No 'but'. If anything, I was, um.” He pauses. “I think maybe I like you back? I'm not entirely sure yet. But I feel like I do when I like someone, I think. If I get past that whole heterosexual thing and just focus on how it feels when you and me are together now, it feels different and I don't mind it. I kind of like it.”

Dan tilts his head. “So what's this all mean?”

Phil bites his lip. “Um. Well. I hate to make you my guinea pig but I kind of wanted to try something one more time.”

“What's that?” Dan asks. His expression is still careful. Phil can't blame him. He's gone from confessing his feelings to having Phil reject him to having Phil basically be all over him in under forty-eight hours. It's only natural for him to be cautious.

“I wanted to try being more physical with you. I mean, on my end. I wanted to see what would happen if I were to maybe try, um, jerking you off. If that works, then I guess maybe I'm willing to say I'm … up for trying something between us?” Phil says carefully, because he's still not sure how to word whatever it is he feels for Dan.

“I really don't like being a guinea pig, Phil.” Dan complains.

“I know you don't, Dan. I don't like making you one. This is the last time, I promise. At least I'm letting you know ahead of time?” Phil offers.

“I mean, I'm not backing down – between wanting you to want me back the way I want you and the fact that it'll be someone else instead of my own hand for the first time in a very long time, I'm not going to turn this down,” Dan says.

“Okay, well. Relax, I guess.” Phil says. He leans in and kisses Dan. Dan tastes of bacon and Dan kisses back a bit too eagerly, which Phil can't fault him for at all.

“Can I touch back or not?” Dan asks in between sharp kisses that twist up Phil's stomach and he finds them to be pleasant enough.

“You can touch back if you want.” And then Dan is, he's sliding his hand up Phil's stomach to curve around the back of Phil's neck and pull Phil down on top of him, and Phil's going with him, settling his weight on Dan.

“How'd you know you were comfortable with the idea of doing more than just kissing?” Phil asks.

Dan shrugs underneath him. “I just wanted to. I wanted to touch you and see you get all worked up because every time I kissed you I got all fuzzy inside and it made me want more.”

Sometimes Phil thinks it's strange that he's never been in love in his life, that in all his relationships, he's never felt _it_ , that thing that makes him say, _yeah, this is forever_. That even his previous relationships have always felt sort of half-there and half-not.

Hell, half the time, his friendships with people were stronger than whatever it was he had going on with someone. His friendship with Dan has always been stronger than anything else once they got past the first few months, for heavens sake. By the time they actually met in real life, there was something so intense between them that hasn't faded that sometimes Phil feels dizzy from it.

Phil kisses and he grinds down into Dan, feeling Dan spread his legs so that Phil can get situated, and he decides he likes that, that Dan is so accommodating for him. He mouths as much to Dan, and Dan snorts at him.

“Accommodating, my ass. I'm horny.” Dan shoots back and his voice is only slightly hesitant when he teases Phil, a reminder to Phil as to why they're in this situation in the first place.

So Phil reaches down and thumbs the edge of Dan's sweatpants. “Wanna get out of these?” He asks.

“Not wearing anything underneath. Didn't feel like boxers last night. Was kind of busy having a massive erection all night thinking about how much you kept being all over me yesterday.” Dan comments. “Didn't feel like being constrained.”

Phil thinks about Dan naked in his bed. “Okay.” He says. He reaches his hand inside Dan's sweats and down, and he only jumps slightly when his fingers curl around Dan's cock. “Inside, then.”

“Oh, thanks, gonna make me come and stain up my sweatpants, what a great person you are.” Dan says petulantly, and he's only being sarcastic and teasing because he's nervous, Phil knows.

“Shut up, I'm busy testing the waters,” Phil orders him. Dan falls quiet at that and Phil lowers his mouth to Dan's throat, kisses there, the same way Dan did when he jerked off Phil.

“Are you going to exact revenge and leave a hickey? Because I was going to film something tomorrow, so I'd prefer if you didn't.”

Phil should be a dick, he should leave a hickey, just for as petty revenge would be. Instead, he bites, feeling almost playful, grinning to himself, just once, and then goes back to kissing. It's hard to focus on kissing Dan when he's busy with his fingers around Dan's dick but the kissing helps distract him.

Dan stretches his legs further apart, hitches his hips into Phil's touch. “Just how uncomfortable are you right now?”

Phil takes everything in for a moment. “I'm ...” he pauses. Pulls at Dan's cock, watches Dan twist underneath him and kisses Dan's throat. “Nervous. About what this all means. But at the same time, I'm – you look good right now, okay?”

It's true, Dan's face is washed with pleasure, the way he's biting his lip and arching up slightly, head splayed just sideways so Phil can access his neck better, the way his eyes squeeze shut when Phil lets the palm of his hand come to cover his head of his cock.

Phil watches Dan and finds that aesthetically, Dan looks really good right now. He can only imagine what Dan's looked like to his ex-girlfriend, to his ex-partners, when he's all worked up. Phil strokes a little faster and gasps when Dan reaches suddenly and palms him awkwardly, angle just slightly off, through his own sweatpants, squeezes.

“Wanna touch you back, can I?” Dan asks breathlessly, shifting the angle so it's better, his hand firm and steadier than Phil's.

“Yeah, if you want,” Phil manages. He's definitely not against the idea of Dan touching him right now because he's pretty hard from the kissing, from maybe seeing Dan worked up, he's not quite ready to admit it yet, even as it wedges in his brain a little more firmly that yeah, he likes seeing Dan like this.

Dan slinks his hand under Phil's clothes, down to his own dick, and then they're pulling together, quietly, and Dan's nervous, he must be, because he kisses Phil and his teeth clack just slightly against Phil's with the force of it, before his tongue slides out and works open Phil's mouth and they're making out, jerking each other off, and Phil's unashamed of how worked up he's getting.

He's panting into Dan's mouth little noises and is gratified to find out Dan's making similar noises of his own, and Dan's the first to come and Phil feels it, feels the way Dan arches up and spurts under his touch, and Phil squeezes just so at the tip as Dan comes down until Dan gasps and his eyes pop open, hisses out, “Too much, christ, so good,” and jerks away from Phil, his own hand momentarily falling away.

Their kiss gets broken as Dan lies there and inhales sharply a few times before sluggishly getting out, “Shit, sorry,” and reaches for Phil again, fingers coming to wrap around and jerk fast, tight.

Phil groans and grinds his weight into Dan's hand, still mostly on top of Dan, and he kisses Dan's collarbone, sucks and bites there momentarily, tastes sweat and feels the shiver run through Dan.

“Feels good,” Dan moans out. “You feel good.”

“Same back at you,” Phil can only offer because his brain is quickly getting swept up by his encroaching orgasm and when he does come, Dan pulls him through it steadily, only stopping once Phil's finished coming all across his fingers, wiping them off on his own sweatpants.

“I'm disgusting and covered in come and it's all your fault,” Dan complains. He looks at Phil, sweaty, hair curling up into the hobbit hair he hates so much, and Phil feels so much affection at that moment that he kisses Dan without thinking.

“You should go change.” Phil suggests. “And, um.” He pauses. “I think if you want to give this a try. I think I'm in.”

Dan blinks at him slowly. “You really sure? Because I'm about to get really happy and I'd prefer if you didn't end up fucking me over in two or three days.”

“If I do that, you can beat the shit out of me. I'm pretty sure I'm willing to see where this goes.” Phil says. “Just. Wanna take it slow.”

If Dan's step as he exits the room is slightly bouncier than normal, Phil can only smile to himself and strip himself of his own clothing to change.

So this is a thing that's happening. It's a little scary and a little exciting at the same time. He thinks about kissing Dan and it makes him feel a little more secure in everything and he doesn't know why, but it does, and that's good enough for now.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because some of y'all have been commenting wanting more of the baby!fic, "Pretty Odd (Things Have Changed For Me)", I want you to know that I have put it on hiatus until I finish this fic, mainly so I can /focus/ on it properly because what's coming up next is super good and I don't want to split my attention between two fics. So, um, sorry, go re-read it? <3 It'll get updated, I promise. Also have some angst because what else do I write half the time?

Of course, it can't be as easy as that. Because Phil's spent almost thirty years – or okay, well, however many years since his sexual awakening began, thinking he was heterosexual and the concept of being with Dan is a little terrifying.

In fact, it actually makes things harder. He finds himself more reticent to give kisses now. He almost draws back from Dan. Now that he's said he's willing to give it a shot, he finds himself evaluating everything and evaluating everything is incredibly overwhelming.

He wakes up and kisses Dan but now he evaluates the kiss and wonders what it means that he's apparently attracted to Dan. He doesn't touch as easily. Dan notices this and he figures it out fast enough that something's up.

Dan calls Phil on it after about three days of the shift towards maybe something more. “Phil,” he says quietly when he comes to bed. “I told you that I didn't want to get my hopes up and then have you stomp all over them in a few days and I gotta tell you, I'm starting to feel a little stomped.”

Phil sighs and tucks a lock of hair away from Dan's face, leans in and kisses him. “I'm confused and a little scared. I told you I needed to take it slow. This might take me a few weeks to get used to, okay?”

Dan sighs. “I don't like you pulling back from me. You're not you anymore, we're not us. We're getting screwed up.”

“We'll be okay,” Phil tries to reassure Dan. He leans in and kisses Dan again. His head goes straight to _What does it mean when you're not as heterosexual as you originally thought?_ and his kiss isn't as heated or as passionate as he'd want it to be but he can't bring himself to stop thinking about the fact that he's only ever been with women, that kissing can lead to more, kissing can lead to handjobs and blowjobs and sex and he's given anal sex before but he's never been on the receiving end of it before and that scares the hell out of him and he knows Dan's never been on the receiving end and what if it's messy, what if it hurts, what if he hurts Dan, and it swells up in his head until it's no good and he pulls away.

“I'm sorry, I'm really trying,” Phil mumbles. “Come here?” He lifts an arm up for Dan to curl under but Dan shakes his head.

“No, I'm – I'm gonna go sleep in my own bed, I think.”

That, that right there, it jerks Phil's heart. He's fucking things up and he knows it and Dan's getting fucked up because of him and he doesn't know what to do.

It's so complicated and it's not his fault but at the same time it is and he watches as Dan slides out of his bed and heads to his own bedroom.

The next day, there's a slip of paper on Phil's bedside table and his fingers brush into it as he reaches for his glasses. He pushes his glasses on and opens it to find Dan's scrawl. _I worry I won't see your face light up again_.

He knows that song too. He wonders if Dan was up until five in the morning worrying about things, sneaking his way into Phil's room so as not to wake him up and placing the paper there. He wonders if Dan slept okay.

When he goes into the lounge and finds Dan sitting there with a mug of coffee, he knows Dan must not have, because Dan's yawning and his eyes are half-mast and there's the faintest of purple bruising under his eyes.

“Morning,” Phil says quietly. He looks at Dan. He thinks to himself how attractive Dan is aesthetically. He feels the faintest of butterflies swim in his stomach. He crosses the room and leans over and kisses Dan's cheek and for once, Dan doesn't swat at him and rub his cheek and blush. Dan just looks at him simply, blinking and sighing. “I'm trying, I promise.”

“I just – didn't expect to get my hopes dashed even knowing you're trying.” Dan says softly. “I'm sorry that I can't just be okay with you needing to figure things out. I'm sorry for expecting more.”

Dan's telling the truth there, he's being honest and open that he wants more, that maybe he's being a little selfish, and it hurts Phil because Dan's open to his flaws. Because Dan shouldn't have to go through this.

“I just spent so long where you've been constantly on my mind where I wanted more, and then you go and say you want more, and now you're actually pulling back and we're doing less than we were before, so it feels all wrong,” Dan says.

Phil nods. He has no words to fix this. “Did you want a kiss good morning?”

Dan shakes his head. “I think – until you can come to terms with what you need to – I need to not do anything at all with you. I don't want you to kiss me again until you're okay with it and aren't going to be pulling back.”

That's a punch in the gut to Phil. He's really got Dan all twisted up and he wants to hug him but he's not even sure if he's allowed that much.

So he goes back to his bedroom and works on an idea for a video. He thinks about Dan and what Dan means to him. He sits there for a long time, trying to distract himself with the internet. When he comes out, Dan's asleep on the couch.

Phil goes into the kitchen and finds a piece of paper, a pen. He writes down a response. _I've found I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind._ He folds it up, rubs his thumb over it, and goes to where Dan's asleep. He tucks it very carefully into Dan's jeans pocket, where it just pokes out, where Dan will be sure to wake up and see it at some point.

He puts on his shoes and shrugs on a jacket and even though it's chilly outside, he goes outside and just walks. He's angry at himself, he's angry at not being able to just be okay with the idea of being with Dan.

Because Dan fits what he wants in a partner and he's attracted to Dan but he's heterosexual and he's got to get past it but it's not just so easy, and he doesn't get how Dan's just gotten past it so easily, and somehow he feels like a failure, that maybe he's not a good enough person.

He walks and gets coffee and he walks some more, he wanders into a shop and looks at things and finds about six different things that make him think of Dan and wonders about buying one for Dan, wonders what it means when everything reminds you of your best friend and you want to do things to make them happy, wonders what it means to want to kiss them and be terrified of that idea at the same time.

He wonders when it became easier to talk in song lyrics than in actual words.

He wonders if Dan's awake yet. He reaches for his phone and wants to text Dan, but he doesn't know what he wants to say. _Did you get my message? Do you understand it?_

But it's not like it's a hard to understand message and he's sure it's going to hurt Dan a little and so he slides his phone back in his pocket and walks more.

He gets spotted by a fan and smiles, takes a photo with her and gives her a hug, and at least that lightens his heart a little bit because his fans can always make him smile, and he's doing okay until he thinks about the fact that he's wearing his wedding ring and he wonders if she saw it, he thinks frantically if he had his left hand around her shoulder and if you could see his hand, he wonders if Dan's going to wake up to find an explosion of people freaking out.

He thinks Dan might actually murder him if that happens. Then he remembers that no, his left hand was on the small of her back and he breathes a bit easier, though he does still wonder if she saw the ring.

He hopes not.

When he finally makes it back to the flat, Dan's awake, indeed, playing video games, and he turns to look at Phil and his eyes are sad. “Hi,” Dan says. “I'm sorry.”

“For what?” Phil asks. Dan's got nothing to be sorry for.

“If what you wrote is what you feel. I'm sorry.” There goes Phil's heart ripping itself out again. He is scared of how Dan feels for him because he's scared of how he feels for Dan and what it means and it's all his fault.

“Did you want to try that chicken paella for dinner? We don't have shrimp but I mean, I took out chicken, we could just make it according to the recipe and skip the shrimp,” Dan says.

Phil can't believe Dan remembers him saying he wants to try it. That Dan would go to the effort of making that for Phil. He feels like an even bigger shmuck and at the same time, his heart curls with affection for Dan.

He wants to kiss Dan right then. But Dan's told him not to kiss him until he's got things sorted and so Phil gives Dan his most appreciative smile. “Sure, sounds great, thanks so much,” and Dan nods, smiles back, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes, doesn't crinkle them the way Phil has learned to know is Dan's true smile.

Phil hurts inside.

 _Just get over the fact that you're attracted to Dan, just get the hell over it_ , he tells himself. _It doesn't change anything about you, you're still Phil Lester. The only difference is now you want to be with your best friend._

 _Who is a guy._ His brain reminds him. He thinks of blowjobs and sex and feels a shiver of fear run through him. Too much, too fast. He can barely handle handjobs. He was nervous through the entire time.

Hell, he thinks about giving Dan another handjob and his heart starts pounding. The only thing he's sure he's comfortable with is kissing. Kissing Dan has become easy and something that Phil actually misses already.

But until he can convince himself that he's comfortable with the idea of more than that, Dan's told him not to kiss him so Phil's stuck.

Dan makes chicken paella and it turns out more than half-decent and Phil devours it with gusto. He wants to kiss Dan and tell him thank you and he can't and he thinks he understands what Dan meant when he said _I'm a little bit rusty and I think my head's caving in_.

The next few days are horribly awkward. Now that they've crossed over to this new idea of what they might want but Phil can't bring himself to actually go through with it, he can see the hurt in Dan's eyes whenever they look at each other.

Dan's laugh isn't easy anymore, it doesn't come as quick.

It turns out that yes, the fan did see his ring because when he checks twitter, there's a kerfuffle, small because the only proof she has is her word, but big enough to be found where she tweeted about meeting him and him wearing a ring on his left ring finger and what does it mean, of the more drastic phangirls obsessing and retweeting and speculating and Phil doesn't mention it to Dan, but Dan sees it anyways, because of course he would.

Dan makes a noise of frustration at some point and mentions it to Phil, that they got caught for the first time, that thank god there's no real proof besides that and for all it could mean is that Phil was wearing a ring for some reason but it's still going to get talked about for the next few days and obsessed over and people will go back through recent videos and look for evidence, and thank god they always take their rings off before filming.

Phil films a new video, makes sure to say hello with his left hand, ringless, and waffles on about weird music he listens to and includes links to some of it in the description, he edits it and films it and puts the ring back on his finger.

He ignores the dozens of tweets aimed at him about the ring. His stomach twists. They've done good – taking off the rings whenever they go out. This was his own mistake, his own slip-up. Dan's not angry. Dan's just tense.

Phil wants to cuddle Dan. He doesn't know if Dan would let him. He wants to stroke Dan's hair and smooth it down and tell Dan it's okay.

Instead, he sleeps alone in his bed. Dan hasn't come back to Phil's bed. Phil can hear him sometimes, he wakes up at two or three in the morning and hears Dan pacing in his room. He knows Dan's stressed out and confused and sad and Phil's gone and screwed up things.

He wants to be with Dan. He's ninety-five percent sure of that. He wants to give it a shot, anyways. He wants to see where this goes. Just, he needs to go slow. He needs his brain to not keep dicking him over every time he thinks of more than kissing.

He knows the only way he's going to get comfortable is by thinking about it, by getting comfortable with the idea, and he's not entirely sure he's ready for it. The only time he is ready for it is when he's kissing Dan, when things get heated and his brain gets too shorted out to over-think.

He sits with Dan watching television. He reaches his palm over to Dan and gently brushes it across Dan's and Dan looks at him, he catches the way Dan angles his neck, and Dan hesitates, draws his hand back a fraction, not fully, just enough.

Phil holds his hand where it's at, half-touching Dan's.

He hurts.

“I'm trying.” He whispers. He risks a glance at Dan's face, which is impassively blank. Dan stares at a point past Phil.

“I know.”

Phil doesn't understand, doesn't know what it means. He takes Dan's hand and squeezes it tight. Dan doesn't respond in any way and eventually Phil lets his hand fall away. He goes to bed lonely that night.

Music is what helped Dan, it seems. So maybe it'll help Phil. He turns on his iPod, hits shuffle, listens for a while, finally finds lyrics that speak to him.

He steals into Dan's room when Dan's not there, opens Dan's diary, dates it with his own handwriting, scrawls _now it's cold and we're scared and we've both been shaken, hey look at us, this doesn't need to be the end_

He leaves the room before Dan can find him.

He misses Dan. He misses the nearness of his best friend. He needs to get over his little snag about his sudden change in entire heterosexuality.

He's done with it. It seems like a tiny little snip occurs in him right then, where his need for Dan and whatever they've got between them overrides his brain's neuroses and he sits there, forces himself to think about handjobs.

He sits there and thinks about them until his brain isn't so freaked out by the idea. He can move on to blowjobs later, sex later. He told Dan that he wants to take it slow. As long as he can get himself comfortable with what they've done already.

He thinks about Dan's long fingers, how Dan's hand is bigger than his, how it more readily wraps around the length of his cock and pulls than Phil's done to him. He wonders how Dan got used to the idea so quickly.

Then again – Dan's done a lot with his life and had to roll with changes. Maybe Dan's just more able to adjust to these sorts of things.

Phil tries to focus on all the things he had liked about jerking off Dan. He'd liked knowing how worked up he'd gotten Dan. It's always gratifying to know you've gotten someone worked up, anyways, and maybe that's selfish, but it's true. He'd definitely enjoyed the noises Dan made – Phil's kind of an aural person and Dan's noises, his pants and tiny whines and groans, those had been pretty enjoyable.

To be honest, it wasn't like he's never felt a dick before – he's got one too – so that part, while a little weird, was only just slightly more weird because it wasn't his own, and once he got past that, it was okay.

It's just the idea that he's not heterosexual anymore if he gives in to this is what scares him and if that idea is going to muck up everything he's got going on between him and Dan, he's going to resolutely tell it to go to hell.

So he goes and finds Dan and sits with him and puts an arm around Dan's shoulder, and although Dan doesn't exactly respond by leaning over to Phil like Phil would hope, he doesn't shrug off Phil's arm like Phil kind of expects either.

Phil strokes his fingertips over Dan's shoulder, he says, “I'm doing better, I think,” and Dan says nothing, and Phil drops his hand away from Dan's shoulder after a while, covers Dan's hand with his own and squeezes, and Dan glances at him, eyes guarded still.

“I hope so,” Dan says finally, and it takes Phil a minute to piece together that it was in response to what he'd said earlier, because it's been quite a few minutes since he spoke.

They watch television together, silent, and Phil says, finally, “I'm going to bed. I'd … I'd really like it if you joined me, okay?”

Dan silently turns off the television and Phil doesn't know what that means, but he hopes it means Dan's coming to bed with him, so he goes to his bedroom and changes into sweatpants and takes off his shirt, puts his glasses on the bedside table, and a minute later, Dan's coming into his room adorned in the same style, shirtless with sweats, and he joins Phil in bed.

“You wrote in my diary again,” Dan says, somewhere between accusingly and confused. Phil nods sleepily.

Dan finally, finally opens up to Phil a little. He turns on his side and lays an arm across Phil's waist hesitantly, and he replies to the lyrics that Phil had written down earlier. “Just let me hold you while you're falling apart, just let me hold you and we'll both fall down, fall on me, tell me everything you want me to be.”

Phil really wonders when it became easier to talk in song lyrics than actual words, but if it gets the point across, then he'll take it.

He looks at Dan, looks at the worry etched all over Dan's face. “I just want you to be you, Dan, that's all.”

He thinks about things. He thinks about handjobs. His brain doesn't quite shudder at the thought. He thinks maybe that's good enough because he really misses Dan and he needs to kiss him.

He leans in, until he's nose to nose with Dan. “I really want to kiss you again. I want you to believe me when I say I think I'm okay with the concept of where we've gotten to this far. I want to take things slow, get comfortable, but I think I'm back on track.”

Dan looks at him and is quiet for a long minute. “Okay,” Dan says finally. “I'm choosing to believe you. I just don't want to get hurt in all of this.”

“I don't want to hurt you,” Phil promises. He closes the tiny bit of space between them and kisses Dan, and Dan is careful, hesitant to kiss back, and Phil's the one who puts everything he's got into the kiss.

He reaches with his free hand to cup Dan's face and pull him in closer and his brain starts to worry about heterosexuality and his heart aches for how much Dan means to him, so he tells his brain to just shut up already.

Then, just to really cement the point home, he pulls Dan towards him, pulls Dan on top of him, and spreads his legs so that Dan can settle between them, and he pointedly grinds his hips upwards. Take that, brain.

Dan finally, _finally_ , is getting on board with this and kisses back with interest, he kisses with slow, lingering lays of his mouth to Phil's, carefully opening his mouth just enough to let his tongue slide and swipe across Phil's lips, until Phil opens his mouth in return, lets Dan's tongue slide inside briefly, pull back, and he pushes back with his own tongue.

“I enjoy this quite a bit,” Phil says softly. He strokes a hand up Dan's spine to his hair, which is soft and just lightly twistable under his fingers, and he tugs gently, because he's always enjoyed running his hands through his partner's hair.

Dan mumbles, “Yeah, but what happens when you freak out over more?”

Phil shrugs. “Guess you'll have to find out if I'm going to freak out again.” In all truth, he probably will freak out a little. He's not going to let it get the best of him though, this time. “You could find out right now what'll happen.”

Dan hesitates. “Not tonight.” He says. “Not really … not really in the mood. Still don't quite believe you're not going to freak out.”

Phil supposes that's only fair enough. He feels bad that Dan doesn't trust him on this because he and Dan have always trusted each other without any fail, literally, with anything. He voices as much, and he kisses Dan again softly.

It winds up in his stomach, that feeling of need and wanting to be closer, and he trusts that to mean that yeah, he really does like Dan, and he trusts in that much. “Will you at least come here and sleep in my arms?” He asks.

Somehow, it doesn't feel weird to want that, to want Dan to nod off with Phil's arm around him. Dan's eyes soften a little. “That's not playing fair.” Dan mutters. “You're not playing fair.”

It makes Phil sad that Dan doesn't entirely trust him yet, that he would say such a thing. “I'm not trying to play anything,” he promises. “I just want you near me.”

Dan shifts over so that he's no longer fully on top of Phil, so that just his head rests on Phil's shoulder, and Phil wraps an arm over Dan, around his back, lets his hand just dangle along Dan's upper arm.

Dan's skin is soft and he smells faintly of soap and the shampoo he uses and Phil doesn't mind learning these things.

“Isn't it weird to you at all?” Phil asks, knowing it's a dangerous topic. He strokes his fingers over Dan's skin gently, skimming, to hopefully abate any worries that might arise in Dan.

“What, this? It was for like, a day. I think because … we kissed for a couple of weeks before I got feelings for you so I was used to kissing you. It started out just trying to make things more proper, I guess, for you, so I was used to it.” Dan says. “So when I realised I actually liked you, I was surprised but at the same time, it was like – well, if you're going to be married, the least you can do is like them so it was almost a relief.”

Phil thinks about that for a second. “I guess you're right. I mean, maybe it's for the better that we actually like each other now, I mean. I don't plan on staying married but maybe we'll be something down the road and something good will have come of it.”

“Yeah, when it comes time to get that divorce, maybe we'll be able to say we've salvaged something. Who knows, maybe in 2022, you really will be asking me to marry you for real, Chris might have been right.”

Phil laughs at that reference. “Please no, we don't need a horrible amalgamation of him and Peej.”

Dan turns his face and kisses Phil's chest. “You are more comfortable, though. I think I can tell, anyways, from how you feel, you're not tense like before.”

Phil nods. “I'm more comfortable.” He agrees. “I'm comfortable with the idea of handjobs. Um. Maybe getting a blowjob – still really shy about the idea of giving one.”

“Selfish prick,” Dan says, without malice, and Phil smiles faintly.

“I'm working on it. You're a good husband, you deserve something good in return. If that means figuring out the whole mechanics of giving a blowjob and not having a panic attack...” Phil trails off.

Dan snorts. “I was nervous giving you one. Then you got that tone of voice with me, and I knew I was fucked.”

“What tone of voice?”

Dan peers up at Phil, shifting, and Phil opens his eyes to meet Dan's gaze. “That tone of voice that said you knew something was up and I knew I was going to wind up confessing my feelings for you.”

“Well, I mean – I guess it turned out okay so far?” Phil says. “If it got me to re-evaluate things and get me to admit that I've got feelings for you? God, that feels so weird to say. I've got feelings for you. You're Dan, how can I have feelings for you, you're just Dan. But now you're … Dan. Totally different at the same time.”

“Your degree in Language and Linguistics is entirely wasted on you, you know that, Philip?” Dan says. “Your verbosity is completely non-existent. I'm just Dan, but I'm Dan. Yeah, okay.”

Phil grumbles something at him. He looks at Dan's eyes, looks at the rich brown of them, feels a soft curl of heat in him. “You sure you don't want to take me up on my offer from earlier? I'm still willing.”

Dan shakes his head. “Wake me up tomorrow with one if you really want. I'm still not in the right place right now. But I mean, I'll never say no to having someone help me out with the inevitable morning wood.”

Phil thinks about waking Dan up with a kiss and sliding his hand down over Dan's cock, squeezing him into wakefulness. Somehow, it's an enjoyable thought, mainly because he thinks he knows how Dan would respond. He's kissed Dan when Dan's barely awake and Dan responds softly at first, then with intent.

He kind of hopes he wakes up before Dan to see what he's like when he's being woken up by a handjob. It's not all that scary to think about. It seems like the more he thinks about it, the safer it feels.

For now, though, he pulls Dan closer to him, presses a kiss to Dan's forehead. Dan makes a funny, soft noise, like he's pleased and amused, and Phil closes his eyes. He drifts and sleeps.

 


	15. Chapter 15

It turns out that Dan does wake before Phil, perhaps because Phil's worn out from the last few days of mentally wearing himself down, and when he wakes up, he's alone, Dan having slid out from under his arm at some point.

Phil yawns, stretches out, smells frying bacon. Of course Dan's making them breakfast. Dan seems to love to cook for them now. He pads from his room to the kitchen and winds himself around Dan, who is standing in front of the stove, placing a kiss to the back of Dan's head, brain still half-asleep and not overthinking things.

“I woke up and there was no warm Dan next to me,” Phil complains. Dan leans his weight back against Phil and flips the bacon, almost spattering Phil with the grease.

“Sorry,” Dan says, and Phil doesn't know if he's referring to the bacon grease or not being around when Phil woke up. “I couldn't sleep. I'm still a bit worried.”

Phil closes his eyes, inhales Dan's scent, moves his mouth over to Dan's neck. He's trying to stay sleepy, because when he's sleepy, he doesn't get all muddled up in his head. He rests his chin on Dan's shoulder and kisses Dan's neck. “Wanna come back to bed and kiss for a while?”

“Cooking us breakfast here,” Dan complains, even though he slinks a hand back towards Phil's hip and strokes over it. Phil kisses Dan's neck again, more solidly, and Dan sighs softly.

“You enjoying yourself?” Phil asks. Dan lets out another breathy sigh.

“You need to stop or I'm going to burn breakfast,” Dan complains. “Plus, you're making me trust you.”

“ _Good_ ,” Phil says firmly. “You should trust me. I'm okay with this. I want this.” He says. He realises a second later that, yes, he does want this. Pulling Dan flush up against him, Phil presses himself against Dan, still half-hard in his sweatpants.

Dan squirms but doesn't pull away. “Bacon's nearly done anyways,” he comments. “I could just turn it off and let it simmer in the residual heat.”

“You could do that,” Phil agrees, and he pulls Dan over away from the stove to the countertop, as Dan reaches for the heat on the stove, turns it off, and almost roughly pushes Dan so that Dan's facing him, pushing him back against the counter.

“Do you have some kind of kitchen kink?” Dan asks. “Every time we get hot and heavy, it's like, right here. Literally, I think this was the exact countertop you picked me up and pushed me onto.”

Phil shuts up Dan with a kiss, pressing his hips forward to meet Dan's. Dan's hard too, he can feel that much, and Phil thinks of grinding up on Dan, seeing what it feels like. He does it, and it doesn't freak him out all that much – maybe a three on a scale of one to ten. He does it again and the anxiety lessens in him, and so he sets about running his hands down Dan's back, cupping him at the hips, holding him there, grinding slowly.

Dan makes a soft series of moans underneath Phil's mouth. “You seem more sure of yourself,” Dan comments into Phil's mouth, and he spreads his legs further, until Phil's resting more on him, rubbing and rolling his hips.

“I feel pretty sure of myself,” Phil says. He pulls back, though. “But I was hoping for this to happen in the bedroom so, if you're willing to wait until later, because now smelling bacon has me thinking about bacon and I kind of want breakfast.”

Dan snorts. “I can wait,” he says. “I've been waiting a few days, I can wait a few more hours.” Though he does reach and slide his hand to Phil's cock, through his sweats, and squeezes and Phil's hips twitch forward against his own will.

“Rude,” Phil comments, catching Dan's hand and holding it there, not sure if he wants Dan to continue or not. Dan squeezes once more and tugs his hand free of Phil's grip.

“Go sit down, I'll finish breakfast.” Dan says. He smiles at Phil, though, eyes soft. “Thanks for giving me a reason to trust you.”

Phil leans in, kisses him very softly. “Should I keep it up?”

Dan's smile grows. “Don't be smug,” he says. “Keep a couple of things up, though.” He adds. “We'll take care of one of them later.” There, he winks, and Phil flushes when he gets Dan's meaning.

“Filthy pervert,” Phil comments. He sits down at the kitchen table and watches Dan cook. Dan hums to himself and pulls the bacon out of the grease and places it on a bit of paper roll on a plate, he makes eggs and toast, and he plates it all, brings it to the table.

“Food.” Dan announces and Phil reaches for his plate, taking the hot food. He kind of really likes Dan at that moment, for taking care of them the way he does.

“Did you know you're a good husband?” Phil asks. “And I really appreciate you.” He takes a bite of his crispy bacon. “Really, really.”

Dan stops mid-chew, eyes Phil, and his eyes shine bright with affection, appreciation in return. He finishes his bite. “You're not too bad yourself, Phil.”

They talk about their plans for the day. Phil's got a liveshow and Dan's actually trying to make more regular videos so even though he just made one two weeks ago, he's making another, and they decide on watching a movie later.

Phil kind of wants to exploit a few things he knows about Dan, which is that one, Dan's more likely to cuddle up to Phil when he's scared – he's done it before – and that Dan hates trees and supernatural things, which he doesn't believe in, but manage to terrify him.

So he picks out an indie film that just came out, buys it and downloads it, a film called “Winter Deep”, which describes some entity that exists in the forest that stalks its prey and slowly feeds off them and drives them crazy.

When his liveshow comes, he mentions making Dan watch a horror film with him later that night, and it turns out that Dan's watching his liveshow because a minute later, his phone goes off and Phil glances at it.

_What's this about a horror film, I didn't agree to a horror film._

Phil smiles and goes back to his liveshow. When he's done, Phil goes to where Dan's editing in the office. “Come watch a movie with me, I promise you'll love it,” he lies.

“You didn't say it was a horror film,” Dan complains.

“I'll be near you if you get scared. Besides, you like some horror,” Phil comments. “This movie has good reviews and I figured it might be fun to get a little scared. Besides, you'll be sleeping next to me tonight, so you'll have someone to protect you.” He teases gently.

Dan shoots him a dirty look. “You're a menace. Remind me why I'm pursuing you?”

“Want me to make the popcorn?” Phil asks. “Extra buttery?” Dan rolls his eyes and Phil goes to do so.

The film is scary enough. It starts out with a small group of friends camping, when one of them sees something that the others don't believe he saw. It turns out the entity is something between like Slenderman and the smoke monster from LOST, able to change its shape to mist though it normally takes a humanoid form, and stalks them, and as the description describes, its presence somehow infiltrates their minds and slowly drives them crazy, makes them hallucinate, makes them mistrustful of each other, until one of them kills the other.

Only then does it truly strike, and the last fifteen minutes of the movie are spent with scared running through the forest, alone, lost, confused, terrified, and there's shots of trees everywhere, of the entity in sneak shots within the trees, and Dan is actually curling up against Phil. “You ass,” Dan complains. “This is the worst movie ever, it's terrifying.”

Phil reaches an arm around Dan and pulls him in close. “So you're saying I did good? I picked a good film?” He has to admit, he's freaked out himself. They've got all the lights out and he's afraid to turn around and look behind himself out of nervousness that that thing will be right there himself.

Dan tucks his face against Phil's shoulder and peers at the film out of the corner of his eye. “I'm going to have nightmares tonight probably, thanks.”

“You've got me,” Phil promises. Dan stays in the position he's in, watching the film with his face pressed to Phil's shoulder, and Phil keeps his arm around Dan, until the film ends, where they're all dead except one, and the humanoid creature is doing something, somehow eating the body, and the person alive is watching, breathing hard in terror, watching from behind some bushes, until a branch snaps, and the humanoid creature looks up, spots the person hiding – and the screen cuts to black, the credits start to roll.

Phil has to admit. It was a damn good film, creepy and decent plot and acting, and he mumbles, “Okay, so which one of us is gonna be brave and turn on the lights?”

Dan stuffs himself even closer to Phil. “I hate you.” He mutters. Phil smiles a little at the tone of Dan's voice.

“Or we could just go straight to bed where it's nice and safe under the blankets.” Phil comments. “You can cling to me the entire way there if need be.”

“I'm gonna,” Dan threatens, and true to his word, while they make their way from the lounge to the bathroom where they turn on the light and brush their teeth, let Phil take out his contacts, then back into the dark to Phil's bedroom, he hovers near Phil. “You picked that movie deliberately to wind me up.”

“Well, maybe I wanted you to have a good reason to cuddle up to me.” Phil admits.

“There's better reasons and ways to get me to cuddle you than pure terror, Phil.” Dan complains. Phil tugs off his shirt and slides into bed. It's a little past midnight, and Phil's only half-tired.

He's kind of, well, horny. After the kissing this morning, he's had lingering thoughts of Dan all day, and having Dan pressed up against him through the last bit of the film did nothing to change that.

Dan sneaks under the covers himself, shirtless, and Phil grins at Dan. “Feeling less scared yet?”

“What, being in the pitch black of the room after having just watched a film that preys upon every single thing I'm afraid of? Literally how the hell would you defend me, you'd probably trip if you tried to protect me and die before it got to me.” Dan complains.

Phil tries not to laugh. He can't even be offended. It's true.

“I was thinking of maybe distracting you,” Phil says. “I've got a way that might prove fairly effective.”

Dan sneaks his way closer. “You owe me a lot of distraction, Phil, after the nightmare you just put me through. If I have bad dreams tonight, you're going to make me breakfast for the next week to make up for it. And dinner. And you do all the chores for three days.”

“Jeez, being a little harsh?” Phil comments. He kisses Dan's shoulder. “Gimme a chance to redeem myself. I just wanted to give you a reason to cuddle up next to me.”

“Rom-coms work just as well as terrifying me,” Dan comments. “But what's the way of distracting me you think is going to be so effective?”

Phil shifts until he's half on top of Dan and kisses him. He kisses Dan firmly, sweeps his hand over Dan's chest and down to cup his hip. Dan mouths back at him, and Phil feels himself wanting more of those kisses.

He thinks about touching Dan and his fingers inch lower, just under the hem of Dan's sweatpants, and he doesn't feel the prickle of nerves. He feels the prickle of heat instead, of being pretty sure he wants more.

Dan shifts. “What, thinking I'll be all vulnerable and let you into my pants now that I'm scared and close to you?” He teases. Phil opens his mouth to Dan's, kisses him fiercely, and makes Dan sigh and moan.

Phil slides his hand further. Dan's half-hard and Phil covers Dan through his boxers with his hand, squeezes. Feels kind of weird, kind of not. His brain doesn't spiral out of control though, and that's better than before.

He feels Dan respond, firming up underneath him, and Phil squeezes again. “Feel good?” Phil asks, feeling almost playful. Maybe he likes knowing he's getting Dan worked up.

“You okay?” Dan asks, lifting his hips towards Phil's touch. “You gonna freak out on me?”

“Don't think so.” Phil comments. “Get undressed,” he says. He kicks at the covers, so they're free of them, so that Dan can push off his sweatpants. “Boxers too.”

It's too dark to make out Dan's form and Phil can only tell by feel. He runs his hand over Dan's body slowly. His fingers, which had been lingering on Dan's hip, come up to touch his shoulder, to cross across his chest.

“Does this do anything for you?” Phil asks, when he finds a nipple, pinches it gently between his finger. It feels strange because he's never had anybody do it to him but it reminds him of the ways he's done it to former girlfriends.

Dan makes a startled noise. “Maybe,” he admits. “Just a little. It's not like a _huge_ turn on, but it doesn't feel all that bad either.”

Phil does it again, he pinches, he rubs his thumb over the nub, and then he thinks of using his mouth on former girlfriends. He shifts away from Dan's mouth, lowers himself, kisses down Dan's throat, his hand coming to rest on the side of Dan's chest, and he kisses further, finds Dan's nipple.

He closes his eyes. He ignores the strange part of his brain busy going down a road that's going to screw things up. He finds Dan's nipple and lets his teeth graze over it. Dan shivers a little.

“Okay, that's better,” Dan admits. “Feels a little good now. Must be something more intimate about your mouth there rather than your fingers.”

Phil bites down gently and Dan hums a noise. “I'm glad you're enjoying this,” Phil says, truthfully. He swirls his tongue over Dan's nipple and that's about as much as he can handle, because there's no swell of breasts under his mouth, and he breaks away, moves back to Dan's neck, which is safe and Phil knows well, kisses there again.

He reaches down with his free hand, skimming over Dan's stomach, flat and trembling slightly at Phil's touch. He's done this before – he can do it again. His fingers curl around Dan's cock, warm and stunningly stiff, and he squeezes gently.

Dan breathes out, makes a small noise of pleasure. “You okay?” He asks. “You better fucking be okay, Phil. I don't want you freaking out on me.”

Phil's okay. He's not freaking out. His brain is busy trying to but he's managing to override it with a reminder that this is _Dan,_ this is someone he wants. He knows he wants Dan, that he's just dealing with overcoming some things about himself that he needs coming to terms with.

He starts to stroke and Dan sprawls out on his back, spreading his legs further. “Little looser. I kind of like it sloppy and loose,” Dan says, and Phil loosens his grip so his fingers are slipping up and down Dan almost lazily, and Dan's thrusting equally lazily into the touch.

Phil focuses little kisses on Dan's shoulder and throat, distracting himself, building up Dan.

“What's it feel like for you?” Dan asks, breathily. “Give me some insight into your mind, let me try and figure you out.”

“It's kind of scary to be touching another dick when I've spent the last like, what, twenty years thinking that I was straight?” Phil admits. “But at the same time, what I want from you is enough to kind of overload that part of my brain. So I'm sort of freaking out but not enough to stop, and-” he gets cut off when Dan makes a soft moan as he squeezes his wrist on the upslide of a stroke.

“Go on,” Dan tells him.

“When you make noises like that, it really helps me,” Phil admits. “I like hearing you. It calms me down.” He squeezes again as he glides his wrist, twists, and Dan turns towards him, thrusts into his palm.

“Don't stop,” Dan says softly. “Getting me all worked up. Get, um. Get undressed, let me help you out.”

Phil pulls away only long enough to shuffle out of the rest of his clothes and his brain screams at him, _you're lying naked next to Dan and jerking each other off_ and he kind of just ignores it because his brain is a nuisance and all it does is mess up things.

“For instance,” Phil continues. “I'm kind of freaked out lying naked next to you and having my hand on your dick and oh- _fuck_ , okay, having your hand on my cock,” he adds as Dan reaches and starts stroking. “But I'm just doing my best to ignore it and get used to it because I'm like ninety-five percent sure I want to be with you right now and I'll get used to it – new things are always scary, right?”

Dan pulls Phil fluidly. His movements are a little stilted, probably because he's pretty distracted by what Phil's doing to him already, but that's okay, it means that Phil isn't going to come before Dan and that's good.

In fact, Dan is rocking his hips steadily in time to Phil's actions. “Little tighter. Getting close, like it to be tighter when I'm close.”

This isn't all that scary. Not when Dan's talking to him, talking him through it. Phil breathes in a sigh of relief, and he focuses on Dan, focuses on the building pleasure that Dan's giving him as well.

He strokes faster and tighter and Dan's one hand comes to clamp on his wrist, squeezing, fingers flexing. “So good,” Dan encourages. “Please, Phil,” and Phil works Dan fast and steady, until suddenly Dan's arching up, thrusting his hips in short movements, and coming, spilling onto his stomach, his come pulsing out of him, some of it on Phil's fingers.

Phil keeps on kissing Dan's throat as he wipes off his hand stickily on his thigh. Dan, however, has other plans. He stops jerking off Phil and suddenly is moving, sliding and pushing Phil on his back, until he can lean next to Phil's hips and Phil suddenly gets what Dan's about to do again.

Then there's warmth and wetness and Dan's tongue is slippery and good and Phil bites back a groan. He's not going to last long if Dan's doing this.

Dan sucks wetly, pulls off him. “Feel good, Phil?” He asks. Phil can barely see in the darkness. His eyes have adjusted though, and he peers at Dan, sees the sly look on Dan's face. Dan can never resist teasing Phil.

“Gotten past your frustration with me?” Phil asks. Dan lowers his head, Phil watches the dark of Dan's hair take over his sight of vision, and feels a line, a stripe, licked along his length, before Dan's eyes peer back up at him, shining just slightly in the dimness of the room.

“For now. You proved I can trust you, I think. Just saying thank you.” Dan answers. Then his mouth engulfs Phil again and it's warm and perfect and Phil loves blowjobs, he really does, and he thinks he loves blowjobs from Dan more than he would have ever imagined because Dan goes at it with gusto, apparently willing to ignore his own vague idea of heterosexuality in favour of making Phil feel good.

Dan licks and sucks and Phil arches and twists in the sheets, hips lifting to meet Dan's mouth, and Dan hums a noise of pleasure and that sends a shiver deep up Phil's spine, he can feel Dan humming around his cock, and it builds up inside him, a ball of pleasure, until he's coming in Dan's mouth.

Dan rides it out, matches the movements of Phil's hips with his mouth, until Phil's lying breathless on the bed, and then Dan pulls back, mouth giving one long last suck, tongue swiping, enough to make Phil twitch because he's sensitive.

Phil's panting, he's brainless. “Don't get dressed,” he orders Dan. “Come here.” While he's still too stunned to freak out, he wants Dan near him. He feels Dan curl up against him. He feels the softness of Dan's dick pressed against his thigh. He feels Dan's chest rising and falling.

“Okay, I just wanna say something. I wanna go to sleep like this. But if I freak out in the morning, can you do me a favour and like, try sitting on me or something until I stop freaking out?”

“Sitting on you?”

“I don't know, it just … maybe if you actually weigh me down and remind me that I'm okay, that you're just Dan. It's an idea.” Phil says.

“Yeah, I guess. Weirdo.” Dan says. “Can you be quiet now, though? I'm kind of stupid from that orgasm and I wanna sleep now. I'm shit for post-coital talk. I just go straight to bed.”

“Trust me, I'm going straight to bed myself,” Phil says. “Because then my brain can't figure out what we just did and try to freak out on me and tomorrow when I wake up, it'll just have to accept that we did what we did and it'll be more normal next time. It'll all be okay eventually.”

“You are trying,” Dan says quietly. “I appreciate it.”

Phil hums a noise. “Shh. Don't forget about sitting on me if I freak out. Just roll on top and pin me down and kiss me. Kissing me seems to be a surefire way to shut up my brain.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dan says, sounding tired. He breathes heavy. Phil, in his hazy state, recognises Dan's nakedness against him. He thinks about being naked next to Dan. His brain wants to freak out. He's too tired to do it. That's good, then.

Plus, Dan will help him out in the morning if he needs it. So he's safe. He's okay with things. It's okay. He really thinks he doesn't mind right now.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise if I didn't do Tyler justice - I've seen every single one of his videos but I don't feel like I can write him properly.

When he wakes up, he feels Dan, naked, against him. His brain immediately overloads and he goes into a panic attack and he grabs at Dan instinctively, trying to roll away at the same time.

His movements wake Dan and Dan looks at him, half-asleep, mutters, “Whuh- oh, christ,” and promptly rolls until he's on top of Phil, and thank god Dan remembers. Dan is heavy and sitting on Phil's thighs, leaning forward, catching Phil's arms.

“Phil, calm down, breathe,” Dan says. “I was hoping you wouldn't make me do this but I guess you need me to.”He presses his forehead to Phil's and Phil's heart pounds. He feels the weight of Dan on him and he focuses on that.

“Put your hands on my arms,” Dan orders. Phil reaches, finds Dan's arms. They're firm and secure. Dan breathes in and breathes out, his breath on Phil's face, his weight still solid.

“Kiss me,” Phil orders. “Distract me.” He knows that's the only way to stop the oncoming onslaught of panic of Dan's nakedness on him.

Dan leans in the last few inches and kisses him hard, rough, ruthless. It's not sexual at all. It's not cruel. It's simply raw kissing and Phil latches onto it, grabs at Dan, shakes and breathes in hard, and he forces his hands down Dan's arms, to Dan's hips, to Dan's thighs.

“You're naked,” Phil says, obviously. “Okay.” He mentally talks himself through it. Dan's naked and he's okay. He jerked off Dan last night and Dan blew him and he's still okay. So what if he's not entirely straight, it's just Dan, it's Dan who makes him feel special and safe.

Dan, who he's married to, who has done way more than he could have ever expected from Dan for this. Dan, who is kissing him rough and tender at the same time, raw and careful, and Phil reaches up, catches Dan, kisses him back.

His heart slows down. His brain slows down. Everything is okay.

Dan, however, is not okay, it seems. He kisses Phil one last time, once he seems to have figured out that Phil's okay.

“You can't keep making me be the one to fix things.” Dan says softly. “Though – I understand, at least this time. Even I'm a little freaked out about waking up next to you naked.”

Phil nods, he reaches up and runs his hands over Dan's naked back. “Do you wanna get dressed? I think I'm okay now.” He's okay with Dan sitting on him like this, without any clothes, as long as Dan kisses him, because it slows down his brain.

“Yeah, and we gotta get ready for next week.”

Next week, they're flying out to Los Angeles to help host a Youtube party of sorts with other Youtubers, who will include Tyler Oakley, and Phil needs to have a long talk with Tyler. Phil needs to have a very long talk about everything that's happened with Tyler promising to keep every single thing that Phil says private.

So they need to figure out what they're gonna wear, pack, coordinate schedules with everything that's going to happen.

Phil leans up, presses his mouth to Dan's once more. “I kind of wanna just stay in bed and kiss you, too, though.”

Dan looks pleased enough at that. “Got you addicted to kissing me?” He teases gently. “I mean, I know I'm a good kisser. But apparently I'm much better than I thought.”

Phil sighs heavily, pretending to be put-off. “Your mouth is okay,” he lies. Dan's mouth is exquisite and rude and delightful.

Dan rolls off Phil and kisses Phil back. “This should tide you over.” He kisses Phil deep and slow and long, until Phil gasps for how much he suddenly wants Dan to never stop kissing him like that, and Dan pulls back, looking pleased.

“There you go. Tide you over, like I said.”

 

The next week goes by in a flurry, it goes by far too fast. Phil jerks off Dan once more and it's easier again, this time, less nerve-wracking. It's almost easy to do it now because he knows what Dan likes, because Dan told him, and so he does it the same way, more comfortable with himself.

Dan returns the favour afterwards and although they don't lie naked next to each other, they do lie in just their boxers, and it's not scary at all. It's almost comfortable to be lying with Dan in his boxers. He can handle that.

Phil mentally stores up his questions for Tyler. Some of them are innocent enough, _how do you deal with not being as straight as you thought?_ and some of them are not innocent at all. _How do you give a blowjob, what does it feel like to get screwed?_ He's not entirely sure he can ask that last one. His nerves build up in him. Can he ask Tyler that?

But he really needs to know, because there's deep levels of intimacy that he can't get to if he doesn't feel comfortable.

A day before they have to leave, their six months of being married comes and passes and Dan murmurs as much, he makes them pork chops and roast potatoes and even lights a candle, he hunts down one of Phil's, a vanilla-scented candle, and puts it in the middle of the table.

It's oddly sweet and Phil thinks of wanting more and he thinks he might. He thinks he might want to mouth down Dan's body and explore, but that has to wait. Just until he's talked to Tyler.

He wants to ask Dan though, first. He needs to make sure it's okay if he talks about things with Tyler.

So he brings it up the night before they're bound to leave, lying in bed next to each other. Phil's taken the position of the little spoon, resting his head on Dan's shoulder, and maybe it's to be more intimate, to make Dan feel more protective of him, more willing to let Phil do something that might scare Dan.

“Dan – while we're at this thing, I, um. I wanted to talk to Tyler about. Things. Um.” Phil begins, stammering. “I want to talk to him about what it means when you're not as straight as you thought.”

“Tell him about us?” Dan asks. He sounds only faintly alarmed.

“I don't think he'd tell anybody else. I just need to talk to someone and I mean, at least Tyler, we can trust because he knows about privacy boundaries for Youtubers. Plus, you know he pretty much freaking ships us together himself.”

Dan laughs a little at that. “Okay, so what were you going to talk to him about?”

“Well, like I said, just – how to come to terms with what I want because, um. I was thinking about giving you a blowjob the other day, and it freaks me out a little, but I still wanted to kind of.”

Dan's fingers come to curl up in Phil's hair. “It's not as scary as you think, you know. Or weird.”

“I want to talk to him about, um. Well, sex stuff. Just so I can be prepared. Because I'm sure I could google but I'd rather hear it from someone who's actually experienced it.” Phil says. He waits for Dan's response.

“Just – be discreet? Do it somewhere private, obviously. Don't give him blow by blow account details of what we've done?”

Phil snorts. “If anything, I'll be asking him to be giving me blow by blow account details of what he's done. Which is going to be way more about Tyler's sex life than I'd ever want to know but if it helps...”

“If he gives you any tips that involve whisks, he's _lying_ ,” Dan says, and Phil starts laughing helplessly. He actually could see Tyler jokingly doing that. He laughs and it grows and Dan starts laughing with him, and the two of them are lying in bed, with Dan's arm around Phil, and they're laughing like loons until Phil's stomach hurts, and finally, he settles down.

“I think I would be smart enough to figure that out,” Phil finally answers. “How traumatising was that video.”

“We're not talking about it,” Dan answers. “That poor woman,” he adds quickly. “My poor eyes. My poor memory, it will never be clean.”

“Okay,” Phil agrees. “So you're okay with me having a discreet conversation about things to try and help myself out? I'm doing it to try and make things better for you and me, you know that, right?”

Dan nods. “Which is the only reason I'm okay with you letting Tyler know that apparently we're, um. Well, husbands who now are actively involved in fooling around.”

It's really hard to define them. Because if they were single, they might call each other boyfriends, or somewhere approaching it. But they're married, and you can't be boyfriends and married at the same time.

Then Dan kisses the top of Phil's head and Phil closes his eyes to sleep.

 

The next day is rushed. Boarding the flight, and the flight is boring so he and Dan preoccupy themselves with video games on their 3DS's, sitting side by side, and why not take advantage of getting a couple of drinks to help pass the time on their flight, and to take the edge of nerves off.

Dan's nervous because he's always nervous about hosting awards ceremonies or shows, and Phil's usually the one to put his hand on the small of Dan's back and murmur some comforting words about how Dan can do it.

Phil's nervous because he's going to be admitting to someone else, who is at least a decent friend of his but still, that he's not as straight as he thought, that he needs tips on how to have gay sex, and his heart hammers so he sips his screwdriver and wonders how cold it's going to be in Los Angeles in December.

Dan's wearing a shirt that looks really good on him and Phil keeps eyeing Dan out of the corner of his eye. It's smokey-grey, with faint silver lines across it, a thin jumper that comes three-quarters of the way down Dan's arms, leaving his wrists exposed, and Phil edges his own hand over and bumps wrists with Dan, wanting to touch, wanting nearness, because he's nervous and he knows Dan's nervous.

Dan looks over at him, shifts in his seat until their shoulders touch. They sit like that the rest of the flight, playing games, wrists and shoulders touching, until they land.

They make their way through the airport after they land, they ride in a cab to their hotel, and Phil messages Tyler, _I need to talk to you about some stuff, is there a time we can meet up in private?_

He wonders if Tyler has any idea – outside of Twitter, they've not really talked all that much. Obviously Dan and Phil were both kind of pissed off at Tyler for the first few weeks of what happened, but eventually, they both moved on and began to talk to him again.

_Sure, did you want to come to my room? I'm in room 212, we're at the same hotel, right? They've got all the Youtubers at the same hotel. Did you want to come see me after you've checked in? Not like I'm doing anything, just on Twitter._

So once they've gotten themselves checked in to the hotel, Phil glances at Dan. “I'm going to, uh, go talk to Tyler. Do it now, rather than later. Get it out of the way. Plus, we're going to be busy tomorrow, I might not have a chance. You gonna be okay by yourself for a bit?”

Dan peers at Phil. “Are you gonna be okay?”

Phil chews his lip. “I'm nervous. Um. I mean, I'm about to go talk to Tyler about some stuff I've never had to think about before. You sure you're okay with it?”

Dan shrugs. “I'm not thrilled. But if it gets you to come to terms with things, then I'll suck it up.”

He steps into Phil's personal space and kisses him slowly. “This helps calm you down, right?”

Phil reaches, catches Dan and pulls him in, holds him close, lets the kiss get heated and sloppy and needy, and contemplates pulling Dan into bed and kissing him for a while instead of going to see Tyler, because Dan really is an astoundingly good kisser and Phil should probably never let Dan know that, because if Dan knows, he could probably use that to his advantage and get Phil to do whatever he wants.

Dan rubs his hands across Phil's back and hums and finally pulls back. “Think that'll hold you secure for a while?”

Phil laughs softly. “You're quite the soothing person, Dan,” he agrees. “So when I'm busy freaking out about telling Tyler that I need tips on how to, um.” He blushes. “Give a guy a blowjob,” and Dan looks faintly amused there.

“I still can't believe you're going to tell him. You better be fucking careful,” Dan warns him. “But yes, that was meant to help distract you. Just think about that.”

“Can't think about it too much, though,” Phil says softly, not quite teasing Dan, being perhaps a bit too honest. “Or I'll wind up wanting it again and I'm sure Tyler will make fun of me if I get all distracted.”

“Go on, then, go have your talk with Tyler. Just – please be careful about giving away too much information.” Dan says. His gaze is fond, even through the worry.

“I will.” Phil promises. He heads down one level, goes to room 212, knocks on the door. He hears shuffling inside and then a minute later, the door swings open and Tyler's standing there.

“So, you need to talk?” Tyler asks.

Phil steps inside and closes the door. “Okay, I'm not sure how to even start this conversation so I'm going to just come out and say it. I need advice on, uh. Gay sex.”

Tyler stares at him. He stares and his mouth drops and he starts to actually giggle, the nervous giggle of someone unsure of himself, and he raises his eyebrows, stares at Phil. “What?”

“I, uh.” Phil doesn't know how to start to explain. “Uh.”

“Wait, back the fuck up, Lester,” Tyler says, managing to get his giggles under control. “Are you and Dan, like, fucking around? Did I actually get you two married and now you two have decided to just plough straight ahead into actual homosexuality?”

Phil sighs. “We've been, well. Dan's asked me to not be so explicit but um. We've been doing some stuff.”

Tyler takes a few steps back, sits on the bed, offers the chair in the room for Phil. “Start from the beginning please, and yeah, while I think you're pretty awesome, I don't need the details on your sex life so just give me the bare bones there.”

Phil sits in the chair, stares at Tyler. “Well, basically, after we got back, we decided to hold off for a few weeks on getting the annulment. Then, Dan came up to me one day and told me he knew how much marriage means to me, which is true, because marriage is really important to me. He offered to stay married for a year so it couldn't be said that we didn't exactly try to make it work. It makes no sense but at the same time, it was something so Dan-like to offer.”

Tyler interrupts. “That makes no sense at all because you'd still be getting divorced after a year.”

Phil shrugs. “But at least we'd have tried to make things work, at least it wasn't immediate. It doesn't make a lot of sense. But it made sense to me and Dan, I guess.”

“Okay, so, explain to me how you went from staying married to, um. Well, what have you done?” Tyler asks. “No graphic details.”

Phil raises his hand. “I'm getting there. So, okay, it started out normal enough. We were just being as good for each other as we could be, where we were cooking for each other and helping out with chores more often, just trying to make each other happier, and I mean, it was just a little bit more us being us with the intent of making the other person happy.”

“So domestic,” Tyler teases and Phil looks around for a pillow to throw at him. They're all piled on the bed however, and he just pushes on.

“Then one day, Dan came up and said that there are studies that show that kissing can breed intimacy, and he basically figured that if we kissed, maybe we'd feel more intimate and things would be easier.”

Tyler snorts. “Two straight dudes kissing each other is probably not going to breed intimacy. It's going to be hilarious and awkward though.”

“Well, it was – um. It was actually nice. I don't think I could kiss any other guy and not have it be weird. But kissing Dan was kind of nice. So we just started to kiss. Not all the time, just when it felt right. Like, at night when we went to bed or after he did something sweet for me.” Phil explains. “It was weird at first, but the more we did it, the more natural it became, the easier it got.”

“This is fucking hilarious, you know that, right? This is the greatest mistake I have ever made and we're not even to the good part yet,” Tyler interrupts him. Phil gives him a dirty look, though he's not actually mad.

“Anyways, um. One day we were making a baking video together and we started having a food fight and Dan had sugar on his mouth and told me he could taste it when he licked his lips and I dunno why, but I kissed him and it got really heated, like, I won't get explicit but I don't think I've ever kissed anybody the way we were kissing then up to that point.”

“Spicy,” Tyler grins. “So no-homo Howell and you have been making out? Is that what you're saying?”

“Um.” Phil pauses. “Well, I'm not exactly done with the story. There's still more to talk about.”

Tyler lifts his eyebrow. “Really. What, have you two been handsy, perchance?”

Phil sighs. “Okay, so that night, we ended up making out again and then Dan, well, offered to give me a handjob and I was all worked up and let him. I didn't return the favour though. But like, he offered to do it if I wanted in the future and I wasn't entirely against the idea because obviously someone else jerking you off is better than doing it yourself.”

Tyler blinks. “Well then. That's rather forward of you. Also, gotta say, you and Dan really are too close for your own good.”

“Just wait,” Phil sighs. “We're still not even near finished.”

Tyler's eyebrows keep lifting and the gleam in his eye keeps getting more and more dangerous. “Okay, this is officially my personal favourite story of how I got two straight guys to fuck around with each other. I mean, not that I have a lot.”

“Shut up,” Phil complains. “Okay, so. One night he was drinking and I joined him and we wound up cuddling and making out and stop grinning, shut up, I'm trying to get this story out,” he complains at Tyler.

“You were cuddling and making out, so heterosexual,” Tyler teases.

“Look, we're getting there, okay? So, uh, we were both kind of drunk, not like smashed, but tipsy, and Dan offered to, um.” Phil bites his lip. “Go down on me.”

He's pretty sure Tyler's eyebrows are going to climb right off his face soon. “You accepted?” Tyler asks.

“I knew we had to talk about it, though. So, um. He did. Then I called him on it and told him that straight guys don't do that and well, after a lot of weird side-stepping, he admitted that he'd had a crush on me for a while, that the kissing had made him get a crush on me.”

Tyler actually squeals. “Plot twist, I love it! Go on, go on, what happens next?”

“Um. I told him that I didn't feel the same way back, which was the truth. Except then I was thinking about how Dan fits everything I want in a partner, except he's a guy, and I was trying to see if I could trick myself into liking him. So I spent twenty-four hours just ignoring whenever my brain was like, 'hey, Phil, heterosexual,' and it didn't even take like more than four or five hours before Dan had fulfilled every single thing I'd want to have in a relationship.”

Tyler grins at him. “How cute, how sappy. So, what happens next?”

“Well, I decided that I could be a decent person and give things a shot with Dan because I knew I liked the kissing and maybe if I liked the kissing, I could get used to more. It got all weird though for a few days because it was like, too much. I freaked myself out because it was admitting that I wasn't as straight as I thought.”

Tyler eyes him. “I mean, I know you know there's nothing wrong with not being straight. You're not a dick. But I can understand – I mean, I imagine if I woke up one day and liked a girl, I'd be more than a little freaked out.”

“I'm straight. It's just Dan,” Phil explains. “I mean, I don't think about other guys that way.”

“You sure? Want me to try kissing you?” Tyler asks. He and Phil stare at each other and then a second later, Tyler makes a face. “Wait, no, I take that back. I'm pretty sure our friendship has boundaries that even I shouldn't cross.”

“Yeah, please don't. Um. So. Basically I finally forced myself to come to terms with things and um. Jerked off Dan. That's as far as I've gotten. I kind of was hoping you could give me advice on how to, uh.” Phil pauses. “I need to know how to give a good blowjob and what it feels like to be on the receiving end of anal sex.”

Tyler tucks his face to his knee as he pulls them up, bites his kneecap, holds back a laugh. “Oh my god, this is the best day of my life, you know that?”

“Quit making fun of me,” Phil complains. “I'm nervous and I'm trying to be a good, um. I don't know. Husband?”

“Are you still planning on getting divorced?” Tyler asks, looking up at Phil.

“Yeah. I'm not sure what me and Dan will be by then but I don't think I'm going to want to be married.” Phil says. “I mean, I don't want a divorce but even if Dan and I are still doing whatever we're doing, it'll only have been like, nine months since it started, that's not long-term marriage material.”

Tyler shrugs. “Some marriages happen sooner than that and last. If anybody could make it work, I think it'd be you and Dan. But okay, so. You came to me for sex tips. How explicit am _I_ allowed to get?”

Phil bites his lip. “Well, Dan just asked me not to be too explicit with you about what we've done. I guess be as explicit as I can take? Which is to say, um. I'm probably going to turn bright red and freak out a lot but I guess I need to know.”

Tyler lays out on the bed, flopping down. “Okay, well, I guess let's start with blowjobs.”

Phil thinks about that, thinks about blowjobs. Thinks about how he kind of wanted to maybe give Dan one the other day, now that he's getting a little more comfortable. “Okay. Um. Tips on how to make it feel good? And how to not freak out the first time I do it?”

Tyler grins. “You'll freak out. Trust me. You're an up to now straight man who's giving a blowjob. You're going to freak out. But we'll get you through that.”

Phil gets up and goes to where Tyler's laying and sits down next to him, stares down at Tyler.

Tyler looks at him with his bright eyes and grins. “I feel so special that you came to me for tips,” he jokes. “Well, I mean, make sure you keep your teeth pulled back like, this,” he demonstrates, opening his mouth to show Phil.

Phil can feel himself blushing. “This is the most embarrassing thing in the world,” he mutters. “I can't believe I came to you for this information but I just – I want to be a good husband for Dan.”

Tyler smiles at him. “I mean, this is actually cute, you know that? It's hilarious and weird and cute all at once and I think if you two work out, you owe me congratulations.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Okay, so teeth.”

“Um. Wow, I never thought I'd be giving a straight guy tips, like. Okay. Hollow out your cheeks while you're doing it, and use your tongue around the tip, like, roll it around,” Tyler says. He demonstrates a little and Phil blushes.

“Oh god, too explicit, too much.” Phil protests. “Okay, okay. Um. Anything else?” He squinches his eyes shut and stares at Tyler out of the slits of them, Tyler all blurry.

“Um. How's your gag reflex?” Tyler asks. Phil gapes at him, eyes popping wide open. “Cos I mean, when you've got a dick bumping the back of your throat...”

“I mean, I get car sick but other than that I'm pretty okay, I think.” Phil says quietly. He shuffles his toes in the carpet.

“Well, when you're pushing down to take more of Dan's d-okay, _I'm_ not sure I can talk about this, I'm talking about danisnotonfire's penis,” Tyler says, staring straight up.

“Um. I think we've covered enough about blowjobs. How about you just tell me what it feels like to receive anal sex.” Phil says. He says it in a rush, absolutely bright red. He can feel his cheeks burning.

Tyler grins at Phil wickedly. “In my personal opinion? Pretty damn good.”

Phil shoves at Tyler. “I mean, how bad does it hurt?”

Tyler shrugs. “Depends on how much lube you use and how thick your partner is. Would it be too explicit to ask for details on Dan's endowment?”

“Yes.” Phil says firmly. He's not giving out that information. From what he can tell, Dan's average, like him, but Tyler doesn't need to know that.

“Okay, well. Have you ever been the one giving it?”

Phil blushes further. “Yeah. I mean. We had lube but she still said it hurt.”

“Yeah, it hurts a little. Did you finger her?” Tyler asks. “Or just pop it in there?”

Phil groans at the phrasing. “I didn't just pop it in there, I went slow, but um. Fingering?”

“Get some lube in there, get them a bit relaxed by feeling something smaller than a dick, plus, I mean, it's foreplay, when you were with a girl, you'd, ugh, finger her, I can't believe I'm talking about heterosexual sex,” Tyler complains.

“Okay, okay, you can stop.” Phil says, laughing a little at Tyler's face. “I know it's just as gross for you as the idea of me touching any other guy that isn't Dan is for me.”

“You really care about him, don't you?” Tyler says softly, smiling. Phil nods, blushes for a whole new reason. “Well, okay. So, yeah, try fingering or getting fingered. Use a lot of lube. Go slow. Um. There's probably gonna be weird noises from all the lube so don't laugh too hard at them or freak out.”

“I'm freaking out right now,” Phil says. “Trust me. I'm pretty sure I've officially reached overwhelming point and we need to stop talking about gay sex.”

“Did I give you enough tips?” Tyler asks.

“I guess?” Phil asks, scrunching up his face. “I won't know until I try and I'm not sure when I'll be ready to try.”

Tyler glances at the clock. “Well, you could always try giving Dan a blowjob today – it's not like we've got anything going on until tomorrow. You could go back up to your room and make out with him and offer to see what happens and then, uh. Well. You know. Do your thing. I'm not talking about your husband's dick in any more explicit detail than that.”

“I'm going to find a hole and bury myself in it, this is the most embarrassing moment of my life, coming for tips on gay sex,” Phil groans. “But thanks, Tyler. I think. Um. I am gonna take off now and just hide my face in shame for a few hours.”

Tyler smiles at him. “Just don't worry too much. It's not as complicated as you think and I think you'll be okay. And if it works out, you owe me for giving you such good tips.”

“Not sure how good those tips were, but thanks again,” Phil says. “I'm gonna go. I think I need Dan to kiss me for like an hour straight to calm me down.”

Tyler grins further at that. “What, he kisses you to calm you down? That's the cutest.”

Phil blushes as he stands up. “He just – it's soothing, Dan's so good at it that it distracts me and then I don't worry about things and he brings me back down to earth and nothing's wrong.”

Tyler gives Phil a look. “Oh, you are gone, honey. You're a sap for Dan now.” He follows Phil to the door. “Don't give me the explicit details but if you do take up my advice, let me know how it works out.”

“Maybe,” Phil says. “I'm not sure I'm ready just yet. I just wanted to – you know, for the future. Get tips.”

“It's cute how you're actually trying this.” Tyler sobers up for a second. “And I can only guess how weird it is for you. So good for you for trying.”

Phil nods. “I'm gonna go.” He thinks about going upstairs and kissing Dan for a while. He thinks about how they have the night to themselves and what kissing might lead to. He's comfortable with handjobs, at least. So maybe they can leave it at that. He thinks about blowjobs. He freaks out a little inside.

But sometimes, when he's kissing Dan, the heat from kissing him overtakes him and makes him want more. So maybe he'll want more tonight and he can just shove down that freaking out and put Tyler's tips to use.

He doesn't know yet. He gives Tyler a quick hug, mutters, “If you tell anybody I swear I'll kill you,” and Tyler gives him an honest laugh and swears on his mum's life, then lets Phil exit the room.

Phil takes the lift back up to his floor and goes back to the room, where Dan's sprawled out on the bed, playing on his phone.

Dan glances at him. “Hey,” he says. “How'd the talk go?”

“It was, uh. Weird.” Phil admits. “But informative, I think. We'll see.”

Dan eyes him. “You okay?” Phil shrugs.

“I think I need you to sit on me and kiss me for a while.” Phil admits. Dan smiles.

“I can do that.” Dan says. “Come here, then.”

Phil adds softly, “Maybe we'll see what else happens. See if Tyler's tips were of any use. Maybe.” Dan's eyes crinkle slightly as he smiles, looking pleased.

“Going to be brave?” Dan asks. He pulls Phil down to the bed as Phil approaches, rolls them, sits on Phil's lap and kisses him and Phil feels his nerves melting away underneath Dan's kiss.

“Maybe,” Phil agrees. “For now, just – let's kiss?” Dan can do that much and he leans in again and kisses Phil, and Phil holds Dan close. Dan's so good and he appreciates the hell out of Dan right then. He wonders what tonight will bring.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terribly sorry for the wait - I have horrible writer's block right now. This update is absolute trash and I apologise for it in advance.

In the end, Phil decides against giving Dan a blowjob. It's too soon, too much. But at least he has tips. Dan isn't put out and instead, Phil winds up giving Dan a handjob that's becoming more comfortable still.

He's learning Dan's noises, the way he shifts in bed when he's worked up, the way Dan's cheeks pink up when he gets near orgasm. Phil's learning that he finds that more attractive than he ever expected.

It's strange, unravelling one's own sexuality. Dan takes his time with Phil helping, unravelling Phil with long, luxurious kisses and fingers that sweep down Phil's body and touch him, build him up.

Later on, when they've had mutual orgasms, they take turns showering, although Dan does invite Phil to join him but Phil declines – somehow, letting Dan wash him feels way too intimate.

They dress and go downstairs to the party, where Troye and Connor are already there, hanging out with Tyler, and Troye is blushing at something that Tyler says to him, and Phil recognises that look, he sees it in the way Dan looks at him.

And he sees intent in Tyler's eyes, there's no doubt about that. Tyler has himself figured out and his wants, and his wants include Troye, it appears. Connor almost looks like a third wheel and Phil makes a note to watch Troye and Tyler as the night progresses because he's _sure_ Tyler will be drinking and he's sure Tyler will get flirtier as the night goes on.

Maybe he should have a few drinks too – relax. That's how they got to where they're at now. He's a consenting adult who's been drinking for over ten years now, there's nothing wrong with it.

Plus Dan always gets funnier when he's been drinking. He gets looser. There's no chances of them doing something stupid tonight – he's pretty sure they're both going to take care to not get too drunk and even if they did get drunk, Tyler's not stupid enough to fuck them over twice.

There's about two dozen different Youtubers there, most of whom Phil knows at least somewhat personally, and he makes the rounds with Dan. They all have individual cameras for filming the party that they'll have uploaded eventually.

Tyler does get drunk, and he does insinuate his way into Troye's space and sling an arm over the younger boy, who blushes and does not side-step, and when Tyler leans in and whispers something in Troye's ear, Troye's mouth parts and then he bites his lip.

Phil has a very definite feeling that Troye won't be returning to his own bedroom that night.

Dan's leaning against him, tipsy, and for a brief moment, Phil dares to lace their fingers and squeeze and then unlace them just as quick, wanting a moment of intimacy with Dan that he's found himself somehow missing after watching Tyler and Troye.

Tyler makes his way over to them. “Hey, Dan,” he grins at them. “Did Phil show you a good time after he came back from my room?” He asks.

Dan's lucky none of the three of them are currently filming and he flusters. “Tyler, shut up, oh my god, people might hear.” He hisses. “It's good to see you again. You know, more soberish.”

Tyler nods. “I never actually apologised for, um, what happened, did I?”

“No,” Dan says. “But it's been six months – I guess you're forgiven. Plus, situation's changed a little, obviously.”

Tyler glances back at Troye, who is talking to Connor, but glancing over at Tyler himself, offering a shy grin. “It sucks that we have an obligation to stay here for another hour. I really have reason to want to get out of here.”

Phil sips his third drink and glances at Dan, who looks elegant and attractive as hell tonight, put-together and perfectly groomed, and Dan glances over at him and his brown eyes shine, and Phil wants to kiss him.

“I know the feeling,” Phil says, not letting his gaze break from Dan's, and Dan's mouth curves into a small smile.

Tyler manages to keep his cackle down to a minimum and hisses gently, “You two are so gay, you know that? Who knew I was actually a matchmaker all along?”

“Shut up, Tyler,” Dan says, with affection in his voice as he finally stops looking at Phil. “Did you want to catch up? We haven't really talked since Vegas. Maybe we could plan another collab?”

“Yeah, we could do that. I mean, I'm pretty booked for the next few months but it'd be nice to make another trip out to London. Make you take me sight-seeing.” Tyler agrees.

Phil leaves Dan and Tyler to catch up and makes his way over to Louise, who he's sorely neglected all evening and who he's missed terribly, not having seen her very much recently. Darcy is a small menace now at her age and Louise is always busy.

Phil gets himself a fourth drink and taps Louise's shoulder. “Lou,” he greets her, and she squeals and wraps her arms around him in a hug.

“Phil Lester, do you know how long it's been since I saw you? I'm pretty sure it was,” and she pauses. “Oh. Um. Vegas.” She says the last word stiltedly, as if suddenly apprehensive.

“No, um. It's okay. We're – okay.” Phil says. He wonders if Louise can keep a secret. Probably. And she is one of their closest friends. “Turn off your camera.” He says, because she's panning it around the room. “I guess I have something to tell you.”

First Tyler, now Louise. He wonders if Dan will care. “Vegas wasn't such a bad break after all,” he says. “Dan and I, uh, kind of worked things out.”

“How's that now?”

Which is how Phil finds himself, albeit slightly drunkenly, explaining to Louise just exactly what happened between him and Dan much the same way he did Tyler earlier, and this admission is both easier and harder – easier because he's more comfortable with Louise and because he's done it once before, so he's not as scared, and harder because Louise keeps interrupting with squeals and gasps and “Tell me more, no!”, almost scandalised.

When he finishes – a less explicit version – Louise has an almost amazed expression on her face. “I would never have thought,” she says. “I mean – yeah, there were always jokes but really, I would have never thought.”

“Yeah, no, same,” Phil says. “I mean, some days I wake up and I'm astounded, I don't feel like it's – I don't know. I look at Dan and sure, I find him attractive, yeah I like the kissing, but I'm getting used to the idea of something new with Dan and like – I'm still nervous about getting more physical. I _think_ I want to do things but then I get freaked out?”

“You're like a teenager,” Louise teases him. “Just remember, Phil, always use protection.”

“Shut up,” Phil colours. He glances around, spots Dan talking to Finn Harries. “Look at him, though. Like, even right now, I don't know, I think about kissing him and it feels natural, right? Is that normal?”

Louise smiles gently at him. “Sounds to me like you've had a fair bit of alcohol. To be talking so freely to me about wanting to kiss Dan.”

Phil has to admit that yeah, he probably has. But he wants to get out of here – neither him nor Dan are particularly one for social events, and while it was nice to catch up with people, he wants to get back to the room and just relax with Dan.

“I still can't quite figure out what to call him,” Phil comments off-handedly. “We're married but we just started something at the same time. Is he my boyfriend? He's my husband but is he my boyfriend?”

Louise giggles a little. She's had less to drink than Phil. “I suppose he might be.”

He watches as Dan turns and scans the room, looking for something or someone – presumably Phil, and when Dan spots Phil with Louise, his face breaks into a grin and he says something to Finn, probably a goodbye, and weaves his way over to them.

“Philly,” he says cheerfully. Phil scowls at him, half-heartedly.

“I hate that nickname.”

“Sure you do, Philly,” Dan tells him and Louise grins. “Louise, it's been ages, I've missed you!” and there's another round of hugs as Dan tipsily hugs Louise.

“What have you and Phil been talking about?” Dan asks. Phil hesitates and Louise glances at Phil.

“Well, um. Phil's been telling me how things are – you know, between you.”

“I hope that's alright, it's just Louise,” Phil blunders in and Dan looks at him, only slightly alarmed.

“I guess it is. If I was okay with you telling Tyler, I guess Louise is fine to know,” Dan says. “Just, I guess nobody else for now?”

“Yeah, no. I just – I guess I figured Louise would be okay.” Phil answers. Dan leans his weight against the bar, lets his weight just brush Phil's, and Phil kind of lingers at the touch.

He leans back, until their shoulders are pressed together and Dan's fingers bump the back of Phil's again. Dan leans in and whispers, “I'm getting bored, we've made our rounds, I want to go back upstairs and just kiss you,” and Phil smiles.

Louise has a fond expression on her face. “Is Dan sweet-talking you?” She asks and Dan and Phil both have the shame to look at least somewhat chagrined. “Oh, so he is,” she says, slyly. “Go on, duck out, I'm sure you've been here long enough.”

The crowd has thinned out a little – as Phil glances around, he can't see Tyler or Troye anywhere and suspects they've made their disappearance for the night. So he and Dan both wrap up their vlogs and then make their way out of the party and hail a cab.

They find their way back to their hotel room and collapse onto their respective beds and Dan says, “Phil, come here,” stretched out, shirt rucked up and Phil lets his head fall to the side.

“I had more to drink than you, I'm lazier, you come here,” Phil says, and he's unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it off, because he's suddenly too warm, now that they're out of the slightly chilly air of December in Los Angeles, his body is producing too much heat.

“Fine, but only because I like you,” Dan grumbles, and then there's the sudden flump and weight of Dan landing next to him heavily on the bed, kissing Phil's ear. Phil shivers, turns his head and looks at Dan.

“So what did you talk about with Tyler?” Dan asks, pushing at Phil's shirt himself, moving to kiss Phil's chest, then his arms as Phil slides out of his jacket.

“Ummm...” Phil pauses. “And just like that, I feel suddenly very shy,” and Dan grins.

“You can tell me,” Dan encourages. “I want to know what kind of information Tyler gave you.”

“He talked about, um. We talked – about blowjobs. And sex.” Phil says. Dan arches an eyebrow at him, and Phil wants to reach over and ruffle up Dan's hair, make him look less put together, because Phil's shy here.

“Because, um. I don't know if I want to yet, I kind of do, but I don't think I'm ready, but if I give you a blowjob down the road, I want it to be good, and I mean, I don't expect sex or anything any time soon,” Phil babbles, “but I figured he could help me out there and just, I don't know, Dan,” Phil says.

“Blowjobs aren't as scary as you'd think,” Dan comments, and Phil meets his eyes.

“They're pretty freaking terrifying to me. I mean, I've never exactly wanted to do that before, it's not like I'm entirely ready for it.” Phil says.

“I know,” Dan says, nudging his ankle into Phil's. “I wouldn't make you, until you were ready.”

“We could always kiss. Maybe, um.” Phil has to admit, the idea of getting Dan off by hand is getting more and more appealing each time. “Have a repeat of earlier.”

“Are we still in the honeymoon stage?” Dan asks, laughingly. “Where you can't get enough of me?”

“Maybe just a little on the kissing,” Phil admits. Dan unbuttons his own shirt and pushes it off him and then rolls on top of Phil, aligning them so that when he kisses Phil, Phil can feel Dan quickly start to stiffen in his jeans.

He lifts his hips to meet Dan, not uncomfortable with the feeling, having grown somewhat accustomed to it now.

So they lazily make out and after a while, Phil reaches down and palms Dan through his jeans and murmurs, “Off?” and sure enough, they have a repeat of earlier, getting sticky and slightly sweaty, and Phil finds himself moaning louder than he might at home, anonymous at a hotel.

This only seems to spur Dan on and he whispers to Phil, “Come on, Phil, let me hear you,” and when Phil comes, Dan's name is almost on his lips and he thinks he might be flustered to know that he was that pent up for Dan.

Then, they lie in bed and Dan pulls out his laptop and pulls up something to watch and Phil finds himself oddly at peace with this. He thinks that if this is what being with Dan is like, he could take it for as long as he might want.

After all, what's the problem with getting each other off and kissing and then curling up to watch some Netflix together? He's comfortable with all of what they're doing, for the most part, as long as he doesn't jump ahead and scare himself with thoughts of things he's not ready for.

So they marathon something on Netflix and Phil lets Dan nestle up against him until Dan falls asleep – first, for once, not at some ungodly hour in the morning – and then he waits until Dan is truly and resoundingly asleep before he untucks himself from Dan's embrace, moves the laptop, and returns to the bed.

They're staying another day before flying back, not having wanted to fly out for just one day, and they're going to be tourists in Los Angeles tomorrow, walk around and see what they can see.

Phil would text Tyler and see if Tyler's free to do some of the sight-seeing with them, show them around, since he knows the area, but he has a feeling that Tyler has a lot on his plate tomorrow. Mainly Troye.

So instead he turns off the light and lets Dan curl up against him further, unconscious in his slumber, and he wraps an arm around Dan's body. He marvels at the way that it's comfortable to lie in just his boxers, having a very warm and content Dan around him.

He sleeps.

When he awakens, Dan's already up and there's a note on the bedside table next to him. _Went for brekkie, back later,_ and Phil sits up, ruffles his hair, which has reformulated itself into a quiff.

He combs it down into something less fluffy, gets dressed, makes his way downstairs to the restaurant and finds Dan in the midst of devouring pancakes and bacon.

“Hey,” Phil says, sliding into a chair across from him. “You should have woken me up, I would have come down to breakfast with you.”

“You looked too cute sleeping.” Dan mumbles around a mouthful of pancake. Phil feels heat rise in his cheeks.

It's odd, in a way. When did Dan become someone who makes him blush, instead of just Dan, who has done embarrassing things like trip and almost crash down a flight of stairs and left Phil laughing at him?

Phil doesn't know what to say. His silence hangs over them for a moment. “Well, um. Maybe I'll just grab a bowl of cereal or something from here so you're not waiting on me and we can get a move on.”

“Sure, I mean, I don't mind waiting if you wanted to order,” Dan says. Phil shakes his head, finds the breakfast bar, gets a bowl of Cheerios and soy milk, pays for it, sits down with Dan and eats quickly, unsteady suddenly.

He can do the kissing. It's when Dan is sweet to him that he falls back, shaky and unsure of himself. He thumbs his phone. He wants to text Tyler but Tyler's probably with Troye and he doesn't want to interrupt that.

He wants to ask Tyler, _What do you do when your possible boyfriend tells you sweet things and you don't know what to say?_ Because maybe Tyler will have some advice for him there as well.

Instead, he finds himself opening up a text message to Dan, who is sitting across from him, and typing in the first thing that comes to his mind. _I spoke to you in cautious tones, you answered me with no pretence, and still I feel I said too much, my silence is my self defence_.

Song lyrics once again sum up the situation better than he could. Dan's phone chimes and he glances at it, glances over at Phil in confusion when he sees who it's from, taps it and reads it, brow furrowing.

“You care to explain this one, Phil?” He asks finally, a minute later.

Phil shrugs. “I just – I don't know. I never know how to respond to the more intimate parts of things here like – you calling me cute when I'm sleeping. I feel like thank you isn't good enough but I don't know what to say back. I think things about you but I don't know if I should say them, I don't even know if I'm comfortable saying them.”

Dan peers at him. “You don't have to say anything you don't want to. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. I don't expect anything from you.”

“But – you should. I mean. I promised you I'd give this a shot and I am, I promise, I really am. I get … I don't know, I get scared, I guess.” Phil says.

Dan links their ankles under the table. “Why would you get scared? It's just me, after all.”

“That's the thing – it's you. I've never looked at you this way before and it scares me. I don't normally look at you and want to, um.” Phil pauses. “See your eyes shining at me because you're happy. Or mess up your hair because we're kissing.” He speaks softly, so nobody hears.

Dan's quiet there, and after a moment, he changes the subject. “So, what did you want to see today?”

“Oh, um, I was – going to look it up when we went back upstairs. See what was around our hotel.” Phil says. “I meant to do it last night but we got distracted with Netflix.”

“Yeah, whoops,” Dan says with a smile, not looking at all apologetic.

So after they eat, they find out there's Griffith Observatory, free of charge, and they decide on that to start with, followed by the La Brea Tar Pits, and then they'll stop for lunch and head back for their flight. It's not much but it's still something to do with their half-day to themselves.

At one point, Phil snaps a photo of Dan and tweets it as they're gazing at some information at the Griffith Observatory, commenting, _making the best of a day in Los Angeles, at Griffith Observatory_.

They get recognised by a couple of fans and pose for pictures, and later on, at the La Brea Tar Pits, Phil's phone goes off and he checks it to see a message from Dan.

He flips it open – Dan must have just taken it without him noticing. It's him staring at a fossil and reading a plaque about it. _So I would choose to be with you, that's if the choice were mine to make, but you can make decisions too, and you can have this heart to break_ , is the caption.

Phil understands too well, and he looks at Dan, meets Dan's eyes from only a dozen feet away, and they stare at each other for a long time, until Dan coughs and clears his throat, wanders over to Phil with a few steps.

“So what are we looking at?” Dan asks, nudging Phil's shoulder with his own and gesturing at what Phil's standing in front of.

So Phil starts to read off the plaque softly, and Dan listens, and they make their way side by side around the rest of the museum, and what Dan has sent remains unspoken between them.

They finish their sight-seeing, they head back to the hotel, they pack up and head to the airport, fly out, get back when it's dark as hell in London, get a cab back to their flat, and proceed to fuck up their sleep schedule by starting a new anime on Crunchyroll and staying up until half-past-four in the morning.

Phil wonders just how much of Dan's heart he has to break. He wonders if he will break it. He hopes to god he doesn't.

 


	18. Chapter 18

Over the next few weeks, Phil slowly acclimates to the physicality of their relationship. It becomes more and more natural for him to reach for Dan, for him to undress Dan and kiss him while Dan's naked, to feel for his body where he normally never touched before, the swell of hips and the inner layings of thighs.

Dan, perhaps the braver of the two of them, has fallen into his own stride and regularly blows Phil as well as jerks him off. It makes Phil feel a bit guilty that he's not ready for that yet. He's moving there, though.

Three weeks pass and they're getting pretty much down and dirty every night to some extent, sloppy kisses and hurried touches to undress each other, and it's comfortable, he thinks. He thinks it's normal for him to want to touch Dan, and that's when it hits him that he's okay with more.

Because as he peels off Dan's jeans, tugs at them at the ankles where they're, as usual, too bloody tight, he realises that he's completely at ease with the concept of jerking off Dan. That the idea of Dan's dick in his mouth slides into his mind and he only blinks a few times at the concept, and it's not with disgust or disinterest, it's merely out of nerves.

“Dan,” he says, “I think I'm ready to actually go further. I mean, me with you.” Dan, who has his limbs sprawled out across the bed and is lying lazily, pushes himself up on his elbows.

“How's that now?”

Phil bites his lip, smiles shyly at Dan. He looks at the naked man in front of him, and acknowledges that yes, this is definite masculinity that he's suddenly and strangely attracted to. That this is something he wants, despite never wanting it before.

That it's because it's Dan, that nobody else would do this to him. He thinks that their friendship has always been strange, and this is only making it stranger, but he doesn't particularly care anymore.

So he shuffles down, finishes tugging off Dan's jeans, and leaves Dan lying in his socks – which makes Dan look frankly ridiculous, so Phil pushes them off too and drops them carelessly on the floor.

Dan wiggles his toes at Phil, and Phil laughs, reaches to tickle them. He knows Dan's ticklish and he's tickled Dan's feet before, and Dan half-shrieks, kicks at him. Phil catches Dan's ankle and touches it, lets his fingers skim the surface.

“I think, ah, I might be ready to try, well, going down on you.” Phil says. “Putting some of those tips that Tyler gave me to good use.”

Dan resettles his leg on the bed. “Just don't tickle me again unless you want me to kick you in the face by accident.” He says that casually, and Phil knows how to read Dan, knows that Dan's not commenting on what Phil just said to keep Phil at ease. Because if they have a _discussion_ about it, then Phil might freak out and talk himself out of it.

So Dan doesn't ask, “Are you sure?” because he knows Phil's going to have to do it spur of the moment, not with a discussion.

So Phil does. He comes back up, kneels next to Dan, looks at him. “I hope you enjoy this?” He asks, and he rests forward on his elbow, takes a firm grasp of Dan's dick with his free hand, and closes his eyes.

He should keep them open, but frankly, Dan's dick coming closer to his face would probably freak him out more. So he lets his mouth bump at the head of Dan's dick, lets his tongue lick at it, a light lapping, until he's situated himself, and then he takes in a deep breath, shoves down all his nerves, and wraps his lips around the head of Dan's dick.

Dan, to his benefit, stutters out a noise but doesn't shove up into Phil's mouth. He sucks in air and reaches down to gently touch Phil's hair. “Take your time,” he says. “I mean, for my benefit too, who doesn't love a prolonged blowjob.”

Phil almost snorts a laugh there. Dan's a cocky sonofabitch sometimes. He bobs his head down further and tastes Dan and the taste is something new, something not terrible. He lets his tongue run the length of what he's got in his mouth, pulls back and starts again back down.

“Just tell me if I'm awful at this,” Phil requests as he pulls off, eyes still squinched shut. He holds Dan steady with that one hand, while he leans forward and sucks at Dan, tries to remember the tips that Tyler gave him.

He can take Dan all the way down to where the base of his fist is, Dan fitting in his mouth, and it feels _weird_. It's weird to have a dick in his mouth. But it's not unpleasant, not knowing it's Dan. It's just a sensation that's entirely new. It's exactly the same way it was weird the first time he went down on a girl, tasting, feeling labia and folds against his tongue and lips.

It's not awful. He could, he thinks, get used to this. He could do this more often. Especially when Dan makes the noises that he makes, which are soft little sighs, a moan here or there, sometimes even Phil's name.

Phil kind of likes that. He likes hearing Dan sigh out his name. Dan does it with handjobs too, but lesser so – he thinks Dan's called his name maybe three times during handjobs. Already, Dan's whispered out Phil's name in a hushed, reverent tone three times, while Phil sucks at him.

“You definitely aren't bad at this. I'd go so far as to say you're a natural.” Dan tells him. “You feel absofuckinglutely amazing.”

Phil lifts his head. “I am AmazingPhil, aren't I?” He teases, and his nerves settle in his stomach. Absofuckinglutely amazing is a high compliment, coming from Dan.

Dan breaks into a laugh, Phil can feel where his forearm rests on Dan's stomach and feels his arm jiggle with the power of it. “Arrogant bastard,” Dan says softly. “Is it awful for you?”

Now that the initial fear is out of the way, now they can talk about it. Phil sucks Dan back into his mouth for a few seconds, hollows out his cheeks the way Tyler recommended, hears Dan hiss a noise and this time, Dan does push up at him.

Phil pulls back. “No, it's not awful, actually. Just weird, but a man could get used to it. Especially if it, um. Makes his partner happy.” Are they boyfriends? Just how do they define themselves yet. “His husband.”

“Yeah, it's not that bad, is it?” Dan agrees. Phil ventures a peek at Dan, and he lifts himself up and away from Dan's stomach, and sees a small smile on Dan's lips. From the husbands comment? Or just in general, from their discussion.

Phil asks again. “Do you mind doing it, as my, um, husband?” and he watches as Dan's smile peaks a little bit further, even as Dan tries to hide it down.

“Not at all. I was the one to approach you about doing it first, wasn't I? I did it of my own volition, not because I felt oblig-well, I suppose maybe I felt slightly obligated to make you feel good as my husband, but it was more because I had a crush on you by then.”

Dan's voice is soft, and he peers at Phil. “You okay?” and Phil nods. He watches Dan's face as he jerks him off for a minute, licking his lips.

“No weirder than anything I've done with a girl. Just new.” Phil answers. “So really, how good am I?”

He ducks his head back over to Dan's cock, licks at it, the way Dan licks at him, not taking Dan into his mouth. He tries to remember what girls have done to him that he likes, and he swirls his tongue around the head of the tip.

He really should have talked to Tyler more on instant messenger or something and asked for tips in a more controlled setting where he wasn't blushing his ass off.

Dan doesn't seem to mind, though, if Phil's inexperienced. “No, you are definitely good at this, okay? Pretty much as good as any bird I've ever had do this to me.” Phil fights back the beaming swell of pride in his chest.

He probably shouldn't be so pleased he's good at sucking someone off. Though if it was reversed, if it was eating a girl out, he'd be pleased, and he's never gotten any complaints on that end, so maybe he should just take the pride and let it fill him.

Dan plays his fingers through Phil's hair. “Your hair's getting long. You getting it cut any time soon?”

“Mm,” Phil says, not quite wanting to pull off Dan's dick to answer, hoping the hum of a yes is enough.

“Don't get it cut too short. I kind of like having something to pull and play with.” Dan says, and his voice is terribly delicious and it curls inside Phil, a heat that makes him flush. He suddenly wonders just how badly he needs that haircut.

Dan's hips rock gently to meet Phil's hollowing and bobbing of his mouth, so that Phil's tongue sweeps along Dan's cock steadily, and Dan whispers his name yet again. Phil can't believe how good it sounds to hear Dan say his name like that, like there's nothing better than Phil at that moment.

He can feel Dan's cock twitching slightly as he pulls off again for breath, presses a kiss to Dan's hip. “So maybe I'll leave it a little longer,” Phil answers, a delayed response, and Dan's fingers are what twitch now.

“Just for me?” Dan asks, sounding teasing. When Phil looks up at him, Dan's eyes are intense, serious. Phil stares him down and waits a second too long, to really make Dan flush.

“Maybe.” Phil says, and he goes back to his ministrations on Dan's cock. Dan's groan is enticement enough to definitely leave it long for Dan to play with, and it doesn't even hurt that much when Dan's fingers twist up in his hair and gently tug.

Phil suckles at the tip, slides all the way down, and it's fairly easy, it's a lot easier than he'd expected it to be. It's not nearly as scary. He kind of thinks he might have been an idiot to let himself be scared this entire time. Not that he'd go back in time and change things – now he's comfortable with a lot more from Dan than he was in the past, and he probably wouldn't have been if he'd rushed it along.

But a blowjob, it really isn't that scary. It's wet and slidey and thick and heavy on his tongue and lips, and his mouth feels stretched and his lips feel swollen, and he kind of likes the feeling because it's going Dan twisting on the bed and moaning his name. Who wouldn't enjoy that?

“Gonna come, Phil. If you wanted to pull off and finish me with your hand or something so you didn't have to taste it,” Dan warns him. Phil appreciates the offer but if he's going to do this, he's going to do it properly.

So he sucks Dan and feels Dan getting harder against his tongue, hears the quickening of Dan's breath, the way that Dan's hand leaves his hair and grabs at the bedsheets, the way his hips rise up and he pushes, holds, his hips stuttering briefly, not touching the bed, and there's the steady, sluggish pulse of his come onto Phil's tongue.

Phil takes it all in, waits until Dan has finished, swallows it down, wipes his mouth. He takes in a long breath as Dan's body falls back to the bed. “It wasn't half-bad,” he says. “It was actually pretty agreeable for me too.”

“Pretty agreeable,” Dan says softly, voice amused. “Yeah. Pretty agreeable for me too. Who knew you'd be so good at sucking cock?”

Phil slaps Dan's arm as he comes back up and Dan looks at him, and his eyes seem to grow heated again.

“You should see yourself,” Dan comments. “Your mouth is all wet and red and swollen. You look like, well – like I just fucked your face. It's kind of hot.”

Phil grabs his phone, switches it to selfie mode, looks at himself. His hair is all rucked up, his mouth is exactly the way Dan described it, and his eyes are blown wide at the pupil, almost black. He's horny as hell and he looks it.

He still hasn't gotten off. Dan looks at him as Phil drops his phone onto the bed. “Want me to return the favour?” Dan asks, smiling at him sweetly, innocently. Phil hooks his fingers in his boxers and pushes them down.

“Only if you want,” he says honestly. Dan licks his own lips and ducks down, and then it's warm and wet and Phil closes his eyes. “You're pretty absofuckinglutely good at this too,” he says.

“I've had more practice,” Dan teases. “I should be.”

“Save it for the pillow talk,” Phil shoots back. Dan grins and focuses on what he's doing to Phil.

Afterwards, Dan does come up to rest his head on Phil's shoulder. “But you were comfortable with it?” He asks. Phil nods sleepily. He's tired, post-blowjob receiving, and it's hard to keep his eyes open.

“Just thank Tyler for me being good at it.” Phil comments.

“That is not a conversation I am ever having with Tyler,” Dan says dryly. “Thanks for teaching my husband how to suck my cock.” There's a warm stirring in Phil's chest at the term husband again. Dan says it without faltering for once.

It's getting easier to use that term to describe each other. It's not as scary, as confusing. Phil muses about that as he runs his fingers through Dan's hair, lets Dan settle near him for the night, as Dan pulls up a video on his phone.

 

Dan lies there, his head on Phil's chest. He can feel Phil falling asleep, feel Phil's fingers that are stroking through his hair getting slower, softer. He's got his phone out and is watching dumb videos on his phone to distract himself from his thoughts.

He's got five months until their divorce. He doesn't want to get divorced. He absolutely does not want it anymore. He's pretty sure he's in love with Phil. He's not a hundred percent certain on that last point, but he doesn't want to get a divorce.

He knows Phil still does. Phil's mentioned it a couple of times in the last week, despite the fact that the two of them are getting steadily closer, almost like they're falling into an orbit around each other, pulling ever closer, and Dan wonders if they're going to crash and burn or find some synchronicity.

His heart is thudding in his chest and he has to distract himself with videos, with anything. Because all he can think about otherwise is that he doesn't want to divorce Phil. He wants to stay married to Phil. He doesn't see the point of it anymore.

After all, what are they going to do in five months, stop what they're doing? Phil likes him back, apparently, and what would be the point of fucking up a perfectly good relationship? So they're already married, they went about it backwards and it might make things more complicated if they explain what they are to each other to people (“We're dating but we only started after we got married, guess we just managed to work it out?”), but he doesn't want to get a divorce.

He lies there, even as Phil falls asleep, and Dan turns down the volume on his phone so that it doesn't wake up Phil. He lies there and stares at videos until his brain goes static-y. He wants to stay right with Phil and he doesn't think he can.

Because Phil doesn't want to stay married to him. He knows that. In five months, Phil wants to get a divorce.

So Dan waits until he's sure that Phil is asleep and he crawls out from under Phil's arm and retreats to his own bedroom, where he lies there, pulls the covers up over his head. He has a flashback to doing this right after they got back from Vegas, the way he'd prayed he'd pass out from oxygen deprivation or something.

He lies there, too soon after Christmas where they exchanged gifts and then kissed each other warmly, and fallen backwards, slowly jerked each other off next to their Christmas tree, and it had felt perfect and he'd wanted nothing more.

He thinks of Phil as his husband and glows inside. He wants more than he can have. He always has – that's his downfall. He groans internally and lies in the darkness that is his blanket fort and can't sleep, mind racing.

When he does finally pass out, it's not next to the warmth that he's grown accustomed to, Phil's nearness, the scent of Phil, the feeling of Phil's arm and flex of muscles that unconsciously pull Dan closer when Dan shifts against his back. He aches for it.

He thinks maybe it's time to start distancing himself. For all he knows, maybe he should break things off with Phil now. Before they get any more involved.

He thinks maybe tomorrow, he will.

He sleeps restlessly, wakes up almost every hour, hears Phil at some point in the morning, and Phil doesn't come to find him, and Dan's heart sinks a little at that, cements home that maybe it's time to kill off the relationship before he falls all the way and gets his heart even more broken.

Dan lies in bed until his phone actually beeps at him that it's low on battery. It's almost two in the afternoon. He's wide awake, he's slept too much, he's going to sleep like shit tonight. He doesn't want to face Phil.

He's going to break up with Phil and that's the last thing he wants but right now, he doesn't know if he even gets a choice in the matter, so he'll pick when it happens and end it on his own terms.

So they'll just go back to being husbands without anything between them and it'll be awkward and awful for five months, but he can fight his way through it – after all, he certainly did that in 2012, what's one more round?

He wanders into the kitchen, starving, and he makes himself a sandwich. Phil is nowhere to be found and Dan doesn't exactly go looking for him. His heart is gloomy and he's not looking forward to what he's about to do.

He's eating a sandwich, and it's tasteless to him. He chews and swallows and doesn't care and Phil must have heard him because Phil comes into the kitchen.

Dan lifts his eyes, stares at Phil leaning against the counter. Remembers the first time they really kissed and got heated, that the counter Phil's leaning on is the exact one he'd picked up Dan and deposited him on.

He swallows the last bite of his sandwich. It sticks in his throat. He wonders just how many memories he's going to have around the flat of him and Phil becoming more than friends, and how long it's going to make him suffer through it. Can they even get past it now? For all he know, he might be fucking them over and they'll stop being Dan and Phil and in a year from now, they'll be in totally different worlds.

“Where were you this morning?” Phil asks, a smile on his face.

Dan doesn't force a smile on his face, doesn't try to make it soft and easy for Phil. “I was in my own bed,” he answers.

“Why?” Phil asks, and he comes over and wraps an arm around Dan, leans in and kisses him. Dan's heart snips very neatly right there and he inhales hard, fights the urge to kiss back, fights back the urge to cry.

“I needed to be,” Dan says softly. “Because,” he falters. His voice catches.

Phil kisses him again. “Why'd you need to be away from me?”

Dan can't kiss back. He can't breathe. He opens his eyes and his gaze is flat and hard. “Because I'm ending things.” He forces the words out past his lips. They seem to trip and get stuck on his tongue, weighing heavily.

Phil stares at him. “Wha-Dan, why?”

“Never mind why. It's just better, trust me.” Dan says. He doesn't want to make it complicated and messy. He doesn't want to tell Phil that he wants to stay married. That he wants to think about the idea of them in a year where they could be.

“What, no?” Phil answers. “I mean, we're … a thing? We're working pretty well together, we haven't hit any snags, so why d'you wanna break things off?”

“Just trust me, Phil. You don't want to know. I'm doing this for the better of both of us,” Dan snaps, sharply. He's going to cry. He knows he is. He just doesn't want to do it in front of Phil, who will try and comfort him, and be there for him.

Dan is angry and he wants nothing to do with Phil for about a week while he cries himself out and somehow convinces himself he's no longer in love with his best friend, with Phil, who is the closest thing to a soul mate he could ever imagine.

Why the fuck did he have to go and complicate things with the kissing? He should have never started the kissing so long ago. This is all his own fault.

So maybe he deserves the heartache he's going to suffer through. “Just – let it go, okay, Phil? I'm breaking things off. We're over. We're done. You can go back to being heterosexual Phil and find a nice girl and I'll find someone nice too some day and we'll get our divorce in five months.”

Phil gapes at him. “I'm dead serious,” Dan says. “I'm not taking no for an answer. I'm just – ending this. For the better of us. Okay?”

Phil shakes his head. “No – why?”

Dan glares at him. Phil stares back, looking hurt, then suddenly angry. “So I finally get up the nerve to do something for you that I've been terrified of trying, I finally get up the urge to trust you and move forward, and you decide to break up with me the next day?” Phil asks, voice raised.

“Trust me when I say it's for a good reason,” Dan says. His voice is bitter. Somehow, this feels all too familiar, like when they got back from Vegas. A big, fat mistake.

“Just talk to me, maybe we can figure it out,” Phil says. He sounds almost desperate.

“You don't want to know,” Dan warns him. He tries to warn him. He doesn't need Phil to find out his secrets, that Dan's gone and fallen for him more than Phil's fallen for him in return, that he wants more than Phil's able to give.

Phil sits down across from Dan. “Talk to me, please,” he begs. “Just tell me why. I don't want to end things. Why would I?”

Dan stares at him. “You- _don't -_ want – to – know.” He enunciates each word. “Please.”

“No, you, please!” Phil shoots back. “I trusted you last night. I trusted you more than I've ever trusted anybody, so you can bleeding trust me.”

“No, I can't!” Dan all but shouts. “You can't, either!” He gets up.

Phil pushes away from the table and follows after Dan. “I'm not going to drop this, you know,” he comments. Dan hates him, almost just a fraction, at that instant.

“You're going to hate me,” Dan tells him, not looking at Phil. “So please, _please_ ,” and Phil grabs Dan's arm, tugs him and forces Dan to look at him.

“Talk to me,” Phil says urgently. He stares down Dan.

Dan stares back. The words are right there. They're going to come out, he's going to fuck it all up.

Phil doesn't break his gaze and Dan cracks. “I want to stay married,” Dan says softly. “In five months.”

Phil's grip loosens. Dan tugs free and flees. It's the only thing he can do. He's definitely screwed them up. He's sure of it.

 


	19. Chapter 19

Dan curls up in his bed. It's too early for sleep and he's not remotely tired and he just wants to be alone, to wallow in his own misery and stupidity.

But of course, that doesn't happen. Because within ten minutes, there's a soft knock on his door and then Phil's entering the room without waiting for Dan to respond.

Dan glances over at him, wordless. Phil smiles gently at him, always too kind, and he seats himself next to Dan, reaches over, hesitates, pulls his hand back.

“I still want to get divorced,” Phil says. He doesn't say it meanly, nor is it quite blunt, just honest. “I just don't think we're ready to be married. Even if we're … whatever we are.”

“That's over,” Dan says, adamant. “If we can't – I can't do this, if we can't stay married, okay? I'm sorry to be so selfish, but I just can't. I want too much.”

Phil gives him one of the saddest looks Dan's ever seen. “If that's what you need.”

Dan doesn't want it to be what he needs, he doesn't want it to be over. He wants Phil, he wants Phil in all his glory and amazingness, irredeemably his own downfall to this situation.

“I'm sorry I don't want to stay married,” Phil says. “I mean, it would make things easier. I just – I'm not sure I'm ready to -”

“It's _fine_ , Phil,” Dan says firmly. “If you couldn't tell, this isn't exactly a conversation I'm wanting to have, so can you just... go away?”

He hates shutting out Phil but it's all he can think to do. Phil stares at him for a long few more seconds and then rises, gives Dan the most saddened look that Dan has seen in ages, and leaves the room.

Dan thinks his heart is ripping in two. He's dramatic – so sue him. He closes his eyes and fits himself into a tiny ball on his bed and tries not to think about the fact that he's hopelessly in love with Phil.

He tries not to think about the fact that he even went out and secretly got lube, was going to see if Phil wanted to take things further, that he trusted Phil enough to let Phil have him.

His phone pings at him a minute later. He reaches for it after a few minutes have passed. _I don't blame you, you know. I can't imagine this is easy on you._

It's a message from Phil.

 _Please just stop talking about this._ Dan sends back. He shuts his phone off at that point, so he doesn't know if Phil chooses to respond.

He stares blankly at a spot on his wall and his mind consumes him.

The next few weeks are horrible. They've got a radio show and they're off, they're very obviously off, not playing banter between them. The seven second challenge is stilted and Phil wins by a long shot, Dan barely makes it through the first round and completely fails at the second challenge that Phil gives him - “spell 'elephant' backwards" – and he doesn't even dance along to the song that Phil picks.

Phil's doing his best to make it look like they're having a good time, smiling at the camera, but he and Dan are off, and Dan's smiles at the camera are shorter and far and few in between, and he doesn't do little dances to the music.

They go home in silence after the show and Dan locks himself away in his room again. He can't be around Phil right now.

It's been two weeks since he ended things with Phil. It's been an awful time – he's sleeping alone, and he misses the kisses, the touching, the way that Phil had started to instinctively reach for him when they were sitting together and wrap an arm around Dan, stroke his hand or his shoulders.

He misses the soft way Phil would talk to him most of all, the way that Phil would speak his name in the gentlest of tones, the way “Dan” sounded like a verbal caress.

Phil still says his name that way, which is the worst part. Because they broke up but they didn't stop caring for each other, clearly. Dan's still in love with Phil, and Phil obviously had his own feelings for Dan. It wasn't necessarily amicable but it's also not _over_ , and Phil's not sure, clearly, how to respond.

So his voice is still tender and he still looks at Dan too long and it rips Dan apart, piece by piece. He longs for Phil. He separates himself from Phil bit by bit, and unknits the seams they've woven together over the last few months.

Well, he doesn't unknit so much as tear them, sharp and quick and painfully. Unknitting would be gentler. Dan isn't giving himself gentle.

He doesn't spend time with Phil anymore. Phil misses him, he knows that much. Phil texts him that. They make a gaming video and they're off there too and Phil stares at Dan too much, and Dan hates that because all the phans are going to read into it, and he doesn't look at Phil nearly as much as he wants.

Phil even dares to reach and put a hand on Dan's forearm at one point, while Dan's building up Dil and Tabitha's home, Dan internally flinches but keeps his face flat, plasters a fake smile on his face.

“Let me do this, Phil,” Dan says, and he says it cheerfully but what he means is, _Please don't touch me, it hurts too much_ , and Phil must read it, thankfully (or perhaps thanklessly) knowing him too well and removes his hand.

“Do you think it would look better by the couch, Dan?” Phil asks, and there's the softness in his voice. Dan will make sure to cut that part out.

Dan doesn't respond, just moves the furniture to by the couch. “Sure.” He answers, no banter. “I think we need to sell Melapples for some cash.”

“What, no! We can't sell Melapples, Melapples is a staple to the Dil Howlter household.” Phil says.

Dan shrugs. “Seems like it's time for a change.” He answers and Phil stares at him a few seconds too long, and Dan thinks Phil understands the secondary meaning behind those words.

Dan hovers over the painting. He hesitates and decides against it in the end. It's not Dil's fault, Dil shouldn't suffer. He'll have to edit this bit out too.

When they've finished, when the recording is off, Phil says softly, “Dan, what's wrong with you? You've completely shut me out.”

“Yeah, well.” Dan's response isn't really a response. He gets up. He'll do the editing later. He's not in the mood, he feels worn out right now.

Phil trails after him. “Dan, why are you shutting me out?”

“Because I can't deal with this any other way.” Dan answers him flatly. “Sorry, Phil. I can't be sunshine like you nonstop.”

Phil stops cold behind Dan and Dan goes to the bathroom to take a long shower, to stand in the steam and not think.

 

His downfall comes when he decides, yet a week later, to do Internet Support Group number ten. He's got the little bottle of wine sitting next to him as he prepares for another round of questions.

He doesn't even bother with a pretense – he just unscrews the cap and pours it into his glass at the very start. “It's been a long week,” he says dryly, putting on his Dan persona, staring at the camera. “And you people are sometimes very weird.”

So he does a video, one that will be sarcastic and filled with jokes that he doesn't really mean because he's still miserable, and somehow manages to pull himself together enough that he thinks the video might not actually be half-bad, and he's his own worst critic.

However, he doesn't stop at the little bottle of wine. Phil's out with PJ for the night, filming a collaboration, and won't be home until much later, so Dan goes downstairs and finds two open bottles of wine, one white, one red, and he doesn't discriminate, so he proceeds to drink the rest of both of them.

He's flopped out on the couch, staring at the television, watching nothing of actual interest, when he hears Phil come home. Shit. He'd meant to be in bed before Phil got home. It's later than he thought. He's not remotely tired, either.

It's too late to make a mad dash to his room and it would be pretty obvious so instead he just sits it out as Phil enters the room.

“Dan?” Phil asks. There's the softness in his voice, almost too tender to bear. Dan resolutely doesn't look at him. He's far too drunk to hold back his feelings.

“Yeah?” Dan asks, and Phil sees the empty bottles of wine in front of Dan, puts two and two together.

“Jeez, how much did you have to drink? Both of those bottles? I mean, I know they weren't entirely full to start with but...”

Dan shrugs. “Just felt like it.” He has a flashback to the last time he was drunk, of giving Phil a blowjob for the first time. He never thought he would ever, in his right mind, actually think to himself “I miss giving Phil a blowjob” but apparently that's a thing his brain is thinking tonight.

Phil drops onto the sofa next to Dan and sits there. “I think the video with Peej is gonna be really good,” he announces.

“That's great,” Dan manages to say. He stiffens up at Phil's nearness. He wants Phil so bad it almost hurts and he shouldn't have gotten this drunk because if Phil touches him, he's going to lean into Phil's touch and his wall he's been building up to protect himself will come crumbling down and Phil will see, and it will be absolutely horrible.

“Yeah, all the fans think me and PJ think a lot alike and our ideas bounce off each other. So I think they'll like this one. We invented a new game.” Phil says.

“Probably will go viral just like the seven second challenge did,” Dan says, and it's probably the most he's reached out to Phil in the last three weeks, and Phil takes the opportunity, puts a hand on Dan's thigh.

Dan fights the urge to cover Phil's hand with his own. He wants more wine. There's still a little left in the white wine bottle, half a glass. He reaches forward for that instead, pours it into his glass, drinks most of it in three gulps, takes a breath, looks at the last sip, drains it.

“Easy there, slugger,” Phil says softly. He reaches for Dan's glass and sets it down on the table. “You okay?”

“I'm fine,” Dan says, steeling himself. Phil's hand comes to rest on his shoulder and rub over it soothingly. Dan's crumbling. He can feel his breath catching in his throat and he wants to turn and press his face into Phil's chest and kiss him.

It's Phil who makes the next move, though. He shifts, he turns sideways, and he wraps his arm around Dan. “I missed you today,” he tells Dan and Dan crumples.

He turns and presses his face into Phil's chest exactly the way he wants to, can smell how good Phil smells. “I miss you,” Dan whispers. “A lot.”

Phil's fingers suddenly are pressed at the nape of Dan's hair. “I miss you all the time. You've taken yourself away from me.” His fingers are touching, are stroking. Dan's melting and he can't fight it.

He nuzzles his face against Phil's chest again, inhales deeply. “I have to.” He answers.

“You don't,” Phil whispers. “You didn't have to break up with me.”

“Yes, I did,” Dan forces the words past his lips. He's twisting to let Phil hold him and suddenly, he's going forward as Phil falls backwards onto the couch, and they weave their limbs together, legs caught up and suddenly Phil's free hand is catching his own, threading their fingers. “Don't,” Dan warns. “I can't.”

He can't do this. He can't be intimate anymore. He's too in love with Phil and if he can't have a future the way he wants, he can't do this.

Phil does anyways. His breath is warm and slow on Dan's throat, his mouth inches away. “You're being stubborn, as usual.” He says it with affection in his voice. Dan hurts because he hears the way Phil still cares about him in that tone.

They could have a fucking future together if Phil would just agree to stay married, because that's all Dan wants, and they could go back to how things were, but that's not what Phil wants, so Dan can't want this anymore.

Phil's made no effort to stop caring though, obviously. Phil's mouth touches Dan's neck gently. “You smell like wine, but you smell good besides that – did you get a new deodorant?”

Dan had, yeah, and he shudders at Phil's mouth on his skin, at the fact that Phil's taking in his scent and commenting on it. “Please,” he says. He doesn't know if he wants to say “Please don't,” or “Please don't stop,” but he wants to say one of them.

“Please?” Phil asks, mouth still moving over Dan's skin as he speaks, hesitant, fingers trailing up and down Dan's neck and it's amazing that Phil is the only person that Dan will let touch his neck.

Dan swallows thickly, his words stuck in his mouth. He starts to push up, to push himself away from Phil, and Phil chooses that moment to lock both hands loosely around the back of Dan's neck, so that Dan's staring down at Phil.

Phil's eyes – they're everything. They're blue and gold and wide and Dan thinks they're a little wet, which means Phil was tearing up and hiding it from Dan, and he hurts that Phil would have to do that, and it's all his fault.

Dan's breath runs shallow, his chest hurts and thrums with his heartbeat, and he wants so badly to lean down. He stares, helpless, lost in Phil's gaze.

“Please?” Phil asks again, “Please, what?”

Dan shakes his head. He doesn't know anymore. He doesn't have a thought left in his mind that isn't how badly he wants to kiss Phil again. He's half-hard, he can feel that Phil's the same way, and his resolve is steadily disappearing. His breathing is coming faster now and he's sinking his weight again, coming closer to Phil's face, slowly unlocking his elbows.

“We shouldn't,” Dan whispers. He's going to, he knows it.

“I miss you,” Phil whispers back and he lifts his head away from the arm of the sofa and meets Dan halfway there, obliterates all of Dan's thoughts.

The kiss is so soft, so delicate, Phil's fingers coming away from Dan's neck to gently trace at Dan's cheeks, and Dan nuzzles into Phil's mouth, eyes closing, brain shutting off. He can't fight it anymore.

Dan kisses back with everything he wants in his kiss, heat and want overtaking him, pushing a hand through Phil's hair, and it's so soft to touch again, he pulls back and stares at Phil, hair mussed from his touch, and Phil's eyes are just as wide as his, and then Phil grabs the back of Dan's head and pulls him back down.

“Please,” Phil says, and it's begging. Dan couldn't deny him if he wanted.

There's kissing then, there's kissing and the way they grind at each other, there's the way that Phil gets Dan's shirt off and goes straight to his collarbone, biting and sucking gently, until Dan thinks to himself how in love he is with Phil.

“Bedroom?” Phil asks. Dan closes his eyes. He could do this, he could let it happen. He wants more than handjobs and blowjobs though. He wants to be with Phil and he could do that too.

“My bedroom,” Dan says very quietly. Phil runs a hand up Dan's thigh, slides inside, squeezes Dan's cock through his pants and Dan hitches a breath there. “There's something there that – I just...”

He doesn't know how to say it. He gets to his feet unsteadily, watches as Phil gets up, and then Phil's kissing him again and leading them to Dan's room.

“Why here?” Phil asks and Dan looks at Phil, his face flushing.

“I....” he falters. “In the bedside table drawer. Just...” He shouldn't be doing this. They're broken up. He has to stay firm and he's lost all ability to do that. He wants Phil back so badly it hurts.

Phil opens it, peers down, and the surprise registers on his face a second later. “Dan.” He says softly, shakily.

“We shouldn't, but if we're going to do this,” Dan mumbles, “I don't just want a blowjob or a handjob. I want more.”

Phil reaches inside and pulls the lube out. “Did you want to, um. How did you want this to -” and Dan understands.

“You wouldn't be ready for me to have you, anyways,” Dan answers softly. “I'm not stupid. If you had just gotten up the courage to blow me, I know you wouldn't be ready for that idea.”

“No, I suppose not,” Phil says. His gaze sweeps over Dan's body. “You sure, though, for you?”

“Yeah,” Dan says. He's afraid it'll hurt. He's fine with it hurting a little, if it means he gets to be with Phil. Phil kisses him again deeply, kneels above Dan and pushes at his sweatpants, then at his own jeans, unbuttoning them clumsily with one hand.

Dan watches as Phil undresses them both until they're down to their underwear, which means nothing, because they've now seen each other naked, done things together naked, enough times that this isn't embarrassing at all.

Phil reaches down and strokes Dan's cock through his boxers, and Dan realises hazily that he's actually wearing a pair of Phil's boxers and hadn't even realised it, that at some point in time he'd borrowed them, never given them back, and they'd become his after that.

Dan closes his eyes and lets his hips lift up into Phil's touch. “So are we not?” He asks, as Phil touches him.

“Just wanna get you closer,” Phil answers. “We are.”

A slow thrill burns through Dan. They are. He's so far gone past saying no at this point, despite everything rational in him screaming not to, that he's going to fall for Phil even more if they do this, and it's going to ruin him.

So he closes his eyes and lets Phil stroke him until precome is staining his boxers, darkening the material, and Phil lets his hand fall away then.

“I'll go slow, I promise,” Phil tells him. He tugs off the remainder of their clothing and they're naked, now. When Phil kneels back and grabs the lube, Dan can't help but open his eyes and watch as Phil slicks himself up.

“I, uh. Don't have a condom.”

Dan shakes his head. “I'm clean. I'm assuming you are too, at least I'm hoping you are given that we've _done_ certain things in the past that could be transmittable in other ways.”

“Well, yeah, duh, Dan,” Phil says. He holds himself, slowly stroking the base. “You okay?”

“I think you should wait to ask that until you're actually, um. Inside me.” Dan says. Phil nods. He shuffles forward, pushes Dan's knees up until they're spread and bent, his feet pressing into the sheets.

“I'll go slow.” Phil repeats. He glances down as he lines himself up and Dan feels cool wetness against his entrance, he lifts his body up slightly to help Phil better align them, and then Phil's pushing forward.

Dan thinks it might be a good thing that he's as drunk as he is – too drunk to be too nervous, so that when Phil pushes inside, even though it hurts, he doesn't clench up more than briefly, reflexively, and then he's relaxing again, staring at Phil with wide eyes.

“Christ,” Dan breathes out as Phil inches forward. Phil reaches down with his non-lubey hand and pushes a hair away from Dan's eye, caresses the skin there.

“You okay, Dan?” Phil asks. Dan nods, arches his hips a little, and Phil slides further inside him. Dan hisses out and grabs at Phil's arms without thinking. Phil leans in and kisses him hard, at first, and then softer, soft and sweet until Dan goes breathless from it, goes breathless from how Phil fully pushes inside him finally.

And then Phil starts to move. He kisses Dan the entire time, he tucks himself forward on one elbow so he can kiss Dan, with his slicked up hand, he reaches for Dan, and strokes Dan while he thrusts shallow and slow inside him.

There's no words between them and Dan grabs behind Phil's neck, twists up a handful of Phil's hair, tugs and groans with every movement that Phil makes.

He's never felt like this before, never had the sensation of being utterly filled. His pulse is racing and Phil's touch is building him up, and he clamps down on Phil without meaning to as Phil strokes him in just the right way, the way he'd learned how over the last couple of months.

“Christ,” Phil mumbles into Dan's mouth. “You're amazing, so tight,” and Dan squeezes again, intentionally, for Phil's benefit. Phil groans and sinks in deep, kisses Dan until their mouths part and tongues slide together sloppily.

It's too heated for them to last and the way Phil's touching Dan means that Dan comes less than thirty seconds later, sudden and sharp, shuddering and Phil feels so thick inside him, Phil suddenly moving faster, as if now that Dan's gotten off, it's okay to not be as gentle with Dan.

Dan matches Phil's movement stride for stride, so that the bed rocks and creaks with their actions and Phil's still kissing Dan hungrily, and Dan's still got his fingers twisting up in Phil's hair.

Then Phil thrusts hard, three times, goes still and Dan can feel Phil coming inside him, and Phil's actually trembling a little too. They both are.

When Phil pulls out, Dan feels stunningly empty. He feels slippery and wet and sticky, and he can't bring himself to get up and move, because Phil's lying next to him with an arm over Dan's chest.

“You were absolutely incredible,” Phil tells Dan. Dan closes his eyes and breathes in sharply. He feels suddenly very sober. He feels regret. They shouldn't have done this.

“You were incredible too,” Dan says softly, slowly. He can feel tears forming behind his eyelids, keeping his eyes shut. “You should probably go sleep in your own bed, though.”

“What?” Phil asks, equally as soft. He presses a kiss to Dan's cheek. “But – I thought...”

Dan opens his eyes, lashes wet, he can see the dampness of his tears on them as he blinks. “You thought what? That we'd get back together? That this meant we were back together?”

“Maybe? I didn't want things to end, you know that.”

“And I still want to stay married, and you don't. We shouldn't have done this. It was a moment of weakness.” Dan says. His voice is strained as he holds back his tears. “I can't do this. Okay?”

Phil stares at Dan. “I don't want us to be over.”

Dan laughs bitterly. “And I do? What the fuck part of 'I want to stay married' sounds like 'We have to break up'?”

“So why-” Phil starts to ask, and Dan doesn't let him finish his question.

“Because it's only going to hurt worse in four months. I'm not stupid, Phil. It's better this way. Just – please. Go. This was a mistake. It won't happen again.” Dan says.

He looks away from Phil, doesn't meet his gaze, ignores how much he wants Phil to stay the night and hold him, waits until Phil's risen and left the room before going to the shower to wash up, to scrub clean, and only then does he let the tears start to flow down his cheeks.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry for how rushed this chapter feels. The plot came together very quickly and I didn't want to stretch it out for the sake of stretching it out, but this chapter feels really rushed to me.

It only seems appropriate that song lyrics make a reappearance in Dan's life. He's on Pandora again, one day, gloomily staring at nothing with his chin propped up in his hand, and he knows the song, he can almost place it but not quite, and he tabs over to see it's “Hallelujah” - that's it, he knew he knew the song, and it's the cover by Jeff Buckley, the one that starts with a soft sigh and the chords twanging ever so softly.

He pulls his phone out and as he listens, he texts Phil lyrics. _and love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah._ Then a minute later, he adds, _jeff buckley if you were wondering._

He thinks that's about as accurate as he feels about love right now. What a pathetic excuse he is to have fallen in love with Phil when Phil doesn't want to stay married to him.

His phone buzzes about ten minutes later. _Well there was a time when you let me know what's really going on below but now you never show that to me, do you?_

It's an obvious enough response from Phil, and accurate. Dan's completely shut Phil out of his life. It's horrible and he misses Phil and it's the only way he can respond. He feels like it's 2012 all over again.

Dan doesn't bother responding. Instead, he sleeps and when he wakes up, there's a scrap of paper in his hand. Phil's handwriting. Lyrics that hit him. _But remember when I moved in you and the holy dove was moving too and every breath we drew was Hallelujah_.

Dan stares at the paper, his fingers half-curled around it, and yes he remembers. He remembers the way it felt to have Phil sliding in and out of him. How could he forget, it was only a few nights ago.

His body aches for it again. He crumples up the paper in his hand and he wants to throw it away but instead, because he is nothing if not a masochist, he puts that little crumpled slip of paper in his bedside drawer. Because it can serve as a memory.

He stares at the little ball of paper and finally slowly, quietly closes his drawer, stands up, goes downstairs.

Phil's in the kitchen, right where Dan needs to be. Dan's quiet. He's not blunt or cruel, he's just quiet, waits until Phil has moved out of his way.

“Hey,” Phil says softly. Dan doesn't look up. He doesn't over-analyse the way he can hear softness and tenderness in that single word, that he can read Phil well enough to know what kind of “hey” that is, it's the way Phil might greet a lover.

“Hi,” Dan forces out, reaches for bread, peanut butter, jam, makes a sandwich, grabs a packet of cookies from the cabinet. There is silence that hangs between them. Dan wishes his old drama teacher could see him now.

“Dan,” Phil says, and his voice is full of aching.

Dan exits the room without a word, carrying his plate of food back to his room where he eats, spends the day watching nothing of importance, opens up an incognito browser, finds a porn clip that does nothing for him because all he can think of is how badly he wants Phil, jerks off to some bad lesbian porn, passes out too late when his brain is busy whirring away with too many thoughts.

This is how it goes for three more days until Dan goes to take a shower, and he's standing there, letting the heat fog up everything, when he realises there's writing on the glass shower door, and he squints at it.

It's barely visible, the steam making it run, but he can make it out, just barely. _The songs are in your eyes, I see them when you smile, I've seen enough I'm not giving up on a miracle drug_.

He has no idea what that's from. He's never heard that song in his life. So he showers, he towels off, he dresses, and he looks it up. It's a U2 song. He blinks. Phil listens to U2? That's one he'd never have guessed.

It actually makes him laugh a little. n _ever took you for a U2 groupie,_ he texts Phil, and for a second, it's not hard, it's not painful.

 _Just that song,_ Phil texts back. _Did you like it?_

 _yeah it was surprisingly good,_ Dan answers. It's easier to talk over text. It's emotionless. He doesn't know if Phil would be asking him, “Did you like it?” with an earnest tone, seeking approval from Dan, except he does know, because he knows Phil and that's exactly what Phil would do, it's why he wrote the lyrics down, but Dan can push that out of his mind.

_Who says you can't be a miracle drug?_

Dan doesn't understand that. He doesn't know what Phil means. But he knows that the lyrics in that song spoke to him, that Phil has a knack for finding songs that touch Dan. And why wouldn't he? It's Phil, who knows Dan as well as he knows himself.

That night, Dan answers Phil. He scrawls, in his terrible handwriting, _I want to trip inside your head, spend the day there, to hear the things you haven't said and see what you might see, I want to hear you when you call, do you feel anything at all?_

He expects a response soonish, but a day goes by, then two, then three, five, a week, and he's given up on a response then.

They're circling each other cautiously. They're talking again, careful small talk. They can sit in the same room and Dan only aches moderately. Phil talks to him and Dan responds, cautious, he can sometimes bring his eyes up to Phil's.

Each time, it's like a blow to his chest. Phil looks at Dan with obvious affection in his eyes and Dan can't take it, but he has to, so he suffers through it, he forces his lungs to keep breathing, ignores the pain in his chest, sometimes can bring himself to smile at Phil.

Once, Phil nudges his feet over to Dan's lap, nudges his foot against Dan's leg, wiggles it until Dan pulls his leg away, up, and Phil retreats, and Dan sneaks a glance at Phil, who is staring at his knees.

This is worse than 2012. This is so much worse. At least then they talked. At least then they could look each other in the eye.

It's been years since Dan felt this alone. He feels desolate.

Phil still texts him on a regular basis. _Want pasta for dinner?_

 _sure_ , Dan replies, doesn't really care. Food doesn't really taste good anymore. His favourite cookies taste like paper. Who knew heartbreak could be so dramatic? He never went through this when he broke up with his girlfriend of three years after high school.

Maybe he was never really in love until Phil, if that's the case. He snorts with dark amusement at that idea. That the first person he really fell for is somehow someone he would have never have expected to fall for.

Maybe Tyler is some kind of psychic.

Maybe he needs to see Louise. She'll know what to say to him. So he texts her, _i need a sympathetic night out, can i come over?_

_Tomorrow? Matt's got Darcy for a couple of nights. Did you and Phil have a domestic?_

Dan almost regrets Phil telling Louise about them. Because now he has to text back, _were not together anymore_ and wait for her response.

_What? Oh, Dan, of course you can come over. We can talk about it or not talk about it, whatever you need._

Which is how he winds up, the next night, at Louise's. She's got open arms and an offer of vodka, which he turns down – the last two times he drank, he wound up fooling around with Phil and he doesn't need neither the flashbacks or the chances that he'll do something he regrets like text Phil how much he misses him.

Which is how he finds himself telling her the entire story from start to finish, not sure what Phil's filled her in on.

She listens with a sympathetic ear and expression, not saying a word while Dan recounts it all from the start, nodding when he mentions first kissing Phil, smiling gently at him when he mentions wanting more and acting on it, and although her jaw drops slightly when he utters, “We slept together, Lou, I got drunk and we slept together,” she says nothing until he's finished up with, “And I'm absolutely in love with him and it hurts that we can't be together and we'll be divorced in three months.”

“Three months? You should, um. I hate to say it, but you should probably get a move on finding a divorce lawyer.” Her voice is soft and tender.

“Don't wanna.” Dan says, stubborn and desolate. He stares at his knees. “I wanna wait until it's been a year exactly and then ask Phil if he's absolutely sure and only then do I want to start finding a divorce lawyer.”

“Drag it out?” Louise asks.

“I just – I can't bring myself to do it, Louise,” Dan says. “I keep thinking if I hold on, maybe he'll come around. I did, didn't I?”

“He'll come around when you're not speaking to him?” Louise asks, lifting a beautifully manicured eyebrow. “Sounds like a perfect plan.”

“You're supposed to be supportive,” Dan complains. Louise reaches over and squeezes his lap, then steals his phone from off the table between them.

“You don't use capitals when you text, right?” She asks, and she's thumbing her way to something and Dan's trying to grab his phone back, but Louise is surprisingly quick, and she's dancing away elegantly, typing with her thumbs, doing something, and handing him back the phone.

Dan stares at what she's done, a text message from him to Phil. _i want to hang out – anime night tomorrow?_

“Louise!” He says. “I can barely be around him without it feeling like my chest is ripping, why would you do this!”

“Because. You two need a night to repair some of the damage and, oh look at that, he's responding, I think,” as Dan's phone pings. “You and him need to spend time together and laugh again. Pick your favourite anime you haven't watched in a long time, rewatch it, share memories.”

“Oh, right, that's exactly what I want, reliving good memories of Phil, who I'm in love with,” Dan says sarcastically as he opens the response from Phil. _Of course :D what anime??_

Dan types back the first thing that comes to mind. _soul eater_.

That's apropos, isn't it, anyways. Something dramatic, something he can focus on instead of Phil and the fact that Phil will probably be commenting on it with his thoughts, since they've seen it already once, and Dan will be hanging onto every one of Phil's thoughts whether or not he admits it or not.

“You're not helping my 'I need sympathy' night,” Dan complains to Louise, who comes to sit beside him and puts an arm around him, squeezes him in tight.

“Here, how about we talk about our numerous ways we've embarrassed each other and ourselves and laugh ourselves silly?” She asks, and that, that Dan can do. They certainly have enough stories for a while to last.

Hell, they have a few from Vegas, and she seems cautious to bring them up, but it doesn't involve weddings or Phil, and so Dan goes with it, remembering how the security guard had approached them with the manager of the casino behind him and Louise had been forced to explain that she hadn't actually stolen anything, while Dan laughs helplessly, shaking with laughter.

He's missed laughing. He's missed feeling carefree.

He tucks himself against Louise and kisses her cheek and she gives him a fond look. “You're an angel, Daniel Howell, and I think it'll all work out,” she informs him. “Just – I know it hurts, but don't stop trying. If you really love him, maybe you've still got time. It's – it's hard to win someone's heart but it's better to try than break it.”

“Ugh, Louise, you sap,” Dan shoots back, leaning his weight against her, which is how they wind up half-cuddling on the couch, her leaning back and letting his entire weight rest against her, her fingers patting his shoulder. “This is disgustingly affectionate and if you tell anybody about this, I'm going to kill you.”

“Surprise, we're tweeting a photo of this,” Louise teases him, pulling out her phone, and Dan sighs, smiles for the camera, his head resting on her shoulder, and watches as she types something about how they're hanging out, sends it into the tweetosphere.

“Can I crash here tonight?” Dan asks softly. “I don't think I'm ready to go back to Phil just yet.”

Louise kisses his temple and Dan thinks that she's basically the big sister he never had, and he loves her immensely.

So he crashes on her couch, a blanket wrapped around him, a pillow stuffed under his cheek, and he sleeps until it's too late, and she makes him breakfast, he eats it and thanks her immensely, and he heads home to face Phil.

Phil actually greets him at the door with a hug, before Dan can react. “I'm glad you want to watch something together,” and Phil's voice is strained, like he's reaching for something that he's been longing for, and Dan knows very suddenly how much Phil's missed him, and he can't stop Phil from hugging him, he doesn't tense up, because that would only hurt them more.

So instead he lets his arms lift up and wrap around Phil and he smells so damn good and Dan crumples forward into Phil's arms, and Phil hugs him, and they stand there, in the doorway, hanging onto each other possibly just a touch on the side of desperate, until finally Phil steps back and Dan drags in a long breath, realigns himself mentally.

“Louise says hello,” he starts.

“Oh, good, I missed her. I hope she's well,” Phil responds, and Dan nods.

“She's great. She's – smart. You know. Knows just what to say. We were reliving some old memories, like how she almost got arrested in Vegas,” and Phil starts laughing because he was there for it too.

“That was a good one. Only Louise,” he says. It's almost easy. Dan doesn't totally hurt inside. He looks at Phil fondly and waits until Phil looks at him to look away.

“So – anime tonight. We can get a pizza, rewatch Soul Eater like I suggested,” Dan says. “It's a good show.”

“It is,” Phil agrees. “Plus, we know what's going on so we won't be confused.”

But even this is strained, that night, as they sit and watch anime, because they're not laughing the way the used to. They make it through four episodes and they're off, as usual, and Dan thinks this is all his fault.

It's all his fault that they're screwed up. He broke them up and Phil didn't want to break up, and Dan's pulling away, he's ruining their friendship, and he can't handle it.

“I'm sorry,” Dan says. Phil glances at him. “I can't do this. I thought maybe we could watch some anime, it could be like how we were before I went and screwed everything up.” He's miserable, he can't even put effort into his voice, he speaks in the flattest of tones.

He looks at Phil and Phil reaches over, catches Dan's wrist before Dan can escape, and holds him there.

“We could play the one word story game,” Phil suggests. “That usually is funny.”

Dan shrugs. “I guess.”

Phil nods. “I'll start. One.”

“Day.”

“There – was – a – young – man – named – Nathan- who – really – liked – hickory – stumps – and – a – small – goat – named – Lester. Lester – was – a – friendly – goat – who – could – speak – and – told – Nathan – about – how – he – would – be – a – magical – knight – one – day.”

Dan's starting to laugh now as they bounce back and forth and Phil grins at him brightly. “See? I told you.”

“So what happens to Nathan?” Dan asks. Phil shrugs.

“We could keep going.”

“Okay. Um. Nathan.”

“Wore.”

“A – dress – robe – that – was – both – flashy – and – impractical – because – he – wanted – everybody – to – know – about – his – magical – destiny. - However – the – king – found – his – outfit – so – ugly – that – he – had – Nathan – arrested – and – put – in – the – stocks – for – his – crimes – against – fashion,” and Dan's laughing too hard to go on now.

“Guess Nathan's destiny was pretty shit after all.” Dan says. Phil grins at him, Phil reaches over and takes Dan's hand and squeezes. Dan's breath catches and he stares down at Phil's hand covering his.

“Phil, you can't do that any more.” He says softly.

“Sure I can. I can hold my best friend's hand.” Phil says and his voice sounds equally soft, equally cautious. They're all screwed up and it's Dan's fault.

“I'm sorry,” Dan apologises again. “For screwing us up. I really have. I don't know how to fix it.”

“We'll get through it. I, um. I just want you to know that if you ever reconsider... um.” Phil pauses. He looks at Dan, and Dan thinks he knows what Phil's going to say, and he can't hear it. He can't because he wants to say yes. He wants to get back together but the whole marriage thing is making it all too complicated.

So he gets up abruptly. “I'm going to bed.” He announces, cutting Phil off, and he sees the hurt in Phil's eyes, hates himself a little bit for doing that.

He doesn't go to bed, however. He sits in his room and stares at the walls, stares at his computer, fiddles with his thumbs, finds himself pacing his room at five in the morning, and he's pretty sure Phil can probably hear him, which is even worse because Phil knows what Dan's like when Dan's in the midst of a panic attack.

He finally passes out sometime around six in the morning, exhausted, brain worn out from over-thinking, and he dimly wakes at around nine to hearing shuffling, the touch of something on his skin, but he's too tired to care, so he drifts back into unconsciousness.

When he wakes up at noon, it's to a presence next to him. He rolls over and blinks his eyes awake and sees two things. One, there's writing scrawled on his wrist spread out in front of him and two, Phil's in bed next to him, sleeping quietly.

Dan focuses first on the words on his wrist. _Of science and the human heart, there is no limit, there is no failure here sweetheart, just when you quit_ , marker that's going to take forever to scrub off, _thanks Phil,_ he thinks sarcastically.

He looks at Phil, who is slumbering next to Dan and Dan wonders how long Phil's been there. He lets his gaze traverse Phil's form and aches for more. He spies something written on Phil's arm too. _I was a stranger, you took me in_ , and Dan knows.

He knows what Phil was going to say last night. If Dan wants to try again with dating – and Dan doesn't think he has it in him to say no anymore. Things can't go on the way they're going on.

So he can only hope that in three months, if he says yes, Phil won't divorce him. And there's so much riding on that one expectation. But they've moved so fast, so who's to say that maybe three months from now Phil won't have changed his mind?

He's lying there, pondering this, when he becomes aware that Phil's woken up and is staring at Dan, blinking quietly, and then Phil says softly, “Dan,” reaches for Dan, tucks his fingers into Dan's shirt and tugs.

Dan hesitates. He knows what it'll mean if they get back together. It'll be wonderful because they both didn't want to end this to begin with, but - “Phil, I just...” He starts.

“I can't be the only one who re-evaluates things. I need you to consider that maybe we don't need to divorce in three months.” Dan says, a bit sharper than he wants. “That maybe, we can just go on with our lives. Because I mean – I'm … I'm fucking in love with you, okay?”

He never had said it to Phil before. Phil's mouth parts slightly and his eyes widen.

“I don't – I don't know if I'm in love with you, Dan. But I certainly do love you as much as can be expected from whatever we are. I mean, I loved you before, as a friend, now this is just a step up.” Phil says. “I was just getting used to the idea of more, and you went and broke us up.”

“I was trying to make things easier.” Dan says, for what feels for the umpteenth time.

“Does this feel like easier to you?” Phil returns, and Dan has to agree with him there, that no, this isn't easier. “Just … I can't make any promises. I can't promise that in three months I won't still say the same thing.”

“So what would we even do then? Keep on dating while getting a divorce? That's going to look ridiculous and confusing.” Dan says. Phil's shifting in closer, and Dan's losing his thought process while looking at Phil's blue eyes, and it's not fair how in love with Phil he is.

“How long have you been in my bed, by the way?” Dan asks.

“Um,” Phil peers at his phone. “About two hours. I had a mid-morning snack of crisps, because I was hungry and that's all we have – we have to go shopping soon – and then I came here and laid down next to you because I was lonely. I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

“How about we just take it one step at a time,” Phil adds. “Just. Dan, don't – I don't want to go back to sleeping alone, I don't want to go without kissing you. I never thought I'd be saying that but I really want those things from you.”

“I screwed us up.” Dan whispers. Phil snags another finger in Dan's shirt and pulls him over, until Dan's half on top of Phil, and Dan feels Phil's warmth radiating up into him.

“I was a stranger, you took me in,” Phil repeats the song lyric written on his arm. “You've been the stranger lately, but I'll take you in, if you'd like,” and it's so stupid, that they can only communicate what they're feeling through song lyrics half the time, but Dan looks at Phil simply, inches away from his face.

Then Phil's leaning up and kissing him soft until the sharp tang of need and bitter regret lingers heavy on Dan's tongue as he shoves his hands under Phil's shirt, tasting crisps and Phil's tongue in his mouth, feeling his slim frame cradled in Phil's lap, as Phil pulls him more solidly in.

“Just … we can both try again, okay?” Phil asks, as he breaks away. Dan's trembling. He's terrified of this all going wrong again in three months. “Even if we get divorced, I'm still probably going to want to date you. I just might need more time.”

Dan sighs, stares at Phil. “Why? I don't need time. I'm … I think I'd be happy to stay married. Maybe we didn't screw up at after all.”

Phil looks seriously at Dan. “I agreed to re-evaluate. In three months. I will re-evaluate. I hope I don't break your heart then, but give it three months.”

“Three months to convince you,” Dan says, trying to make a joke, and Phil smiles faintly at that. “So, grocery shopping?” Dan asks, changing the subject. “By which you mean we'll do all the ordering online and have it delivered?”

“Probably.” Phil agrees. “Can we just – can we go back to the kissing? I've really missed that.”

“I have too.” Dan says, and he lets Phil kiss him. “I'm scared, you know.”

“I know,” Phil says, and he wraps his arms tighter around Dan, and it does nothing to assuage Dan's fears right now, but at least he has something. At least he's got a chance.

So that's how they stay for most of the early afternoon, kissing again, rediscovering each other after the last few horrible weeks of being apart, and Dan relinquishes his control to Phil, he just hopes that in three months, things are different.

 


	21. Chapter 21

So that's how they find themselves that Dan returns to Phil's bed at night and they curl up together again. Phil spends that first night touching Dan in long sweeps of his hand across Dan's body, bringing Dan to orgasm twice, first by hand, then the second time by mouth, and Dan finds it in himself to return the favour.

They start to go on dates now that they're back together, as if making up for lost time. They go on a date a week, if not more, not necessarily fancy, just out for a cup of coffee, but one of them insists on paying, they sit too close, they push the boundaries of what's publicly acceptable.

They spend ridiculous amounts of time together. Dan spends less and less time gaming and watching youtube or television on his own and Phil brings him snacks and then rather than disappear back to his own room, sits down next to Dan on Dan's bed and helps eat said snack.

There's sex again, and this time, Phil pushes his own limits again and uses his fingers on Dan instead of just slicking himself up and pushing inside. Dan knows that Phil's nervous about it, using his fingers on such an intimate and, in his mind, dirty part of Dan.

But it certainly makes the stretch hurt less when Phil pushes into Dan and Dan makes a note to, next time he talks to Tyler, say thank you for teaching Phil how to have sex without hurting Dan.

There's a moment when, two months away from what Dan has started to think about as D-Day (Divorce Day), Phil's buried deep inside him and he's curled forward towards Dan, his eyes squeezed shut, and he gasps out something that Dan can't quite understand, given that Phil's mouth is muffled by Dan's shoulder. Dan wants to believe it's what he thinks it might have been, _love you, Dan_ , but he doesn't let himself get up hope just yet, and Phil doesn't repeat what it might have been, so he lets it lay unspoken between them.

There comes a night when, come two in the morning, Phil lies down, yawning hugely, and Dan's left alone, wide awake. Until he falls asleep when he can hear the birds starting to chirp outside and he dreams nightmares.

He dreams again of their marriage, of Phil publicly tweeting – and this is what should alert him it's a dream because Phil would never do this – how much he regrets their marriage, how much he's grown to dislike Dan, a vague tweet of _does someone ever get under your skin and itch and not in a good way_ and Dan wakes up with a gasp.

He jerks away from Phil's grasp around him and sits up, clammy with sweat. The sun is shining in the room and there's no way that he can go back to sleep now, even though he's only gotten something akin to three hours of sleep.

Phil stirs with Dan's motion and sleepily yawns, pushes himself up and glances at his phone. “What are you doing up, I know you didn't go to bed until after me.” He doesn't make it sound like a question, he makes it sound more like a suggestion that Dan should go back to bed, which Dan isn't going to be doing.

“Nightmares,” Dan says softly. “Don't think I can sleep again.” He gets up, actually puts in the effort of making a mug of coffee despite feeling so exhausted that every movement is a struggle, like swimming through a pool of quicksand.

His day passes in a hazy blur. He tries to play video games and can't get his reflexes together enough to actually do anything decent in them. Phil's kisses feel off – he's still jolted by his dream, and he can't bring himself to return the kisses.

That night, he tries to go to bed early and it's like his brain has decided to become the human Pandora station as he flips through song after song in his repertoire, and he lies in bed, blinking open his eyes every so often to view the skimming of time, little neat chunks that pass by.

9:32, 10:18, 11:20, 12:03, 1:08 – here, Phil comes to bed – 2:10, 2:55, 3:49, 5:20, and finally at 5:39, Dan gets up, having laid in bed for eight hours, unable to sleep for a second night.

Each blink is like a thousand grains of sand under his eyes and it actually hurts. They've got eye drops that Phil bought for his contacts and Dan tries them on his own eyes, rubs them, wet lashes, stares at himself in the mirror.

There's bleak purple shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep, his eyes are red, his hair is messed and curly and he doesn't have the energy to shower and straighten it. He looks absolutely horrible.

Dan crumples face-first on the couch and curls on his side a minute later, staring at the wall in front of him. That alone consumes, oh, about 40% of his brain, the other 60% being spent keeping his eyes open. That's as much energy as he has.

Phil comes into the room a few hours later and kneels on the floor next to Dan. “Are you okay?” He asks. Dan struggles to make his eyes focus on Phil. Phil is blurry, Phil is dark hair and blue eyes that swim in front of Dan, and Dan struggles to sit up.

“I haven't slept in, oh, twenty-eight hours?” Dan answers. “I'm pretty sure I'm functionally brain-dead.”

Phil smooths down Dan's hair and leans in, presses a kiss to Dan's forehead. “Oh, Dan,” he whispers. “Can I make you something warm? Hot chocolate? Will that help?”

“It's not even noon, I think it's early for hot chocolate.” Dan answers, and his eyes briefly focus on Phil, take in the concerned expression on Phil's face, then slide away again. He blinks. His eyes take a few seconds too long to lift open.

He yawns so widely his jaw cracks. There's a shiver, a jolt, and he blinks open again, suddenly wide awake, but still with that heavy, lingering delay to his thoughts and actions.

He feels sick, nauseated. He stumbles throughout the day and by five in the afternoon, he's barely coherent. Phil asks him a question and it takes Dan a full minute to actually process that Phil's asked him something, another thirty seconds to get the words to relay themselves to his brain (“Did you have enough to eat?”), and another half a minute for him to confuddle out the phrase, “I think so?” without really understanding what he's answering.

At quarter to seven, Phil makes Dan hot chocolate, Phil guides Dan into the bedroom and gives Dan his phone. “Listen to this,” Phil says softly. “Close your eyes and listen to this.”

Dan lies down, takes a sip of the hot chocolate, which is very good and he has to make a point to thank Phil for it later, presses play as Phil backs out of the room and closes the door, turns off the light.

The music starts, twangy and soft, pluckings of strings, and then the drums kick in.

_Go back to sleep now, my darling, and I'll keep all the bad dreams away, breathe now, think sweet things, and I'll think of all the right words to say_

Dan takes another sip of hot chocolate. The weight of the mug makes his hand waver and he sets it back down on the bedside table. His eyes flutter shut and his breath falls heavy.

He doesn't make it to the second verse. His last thought is how much Phil must care about him to have found the perfect song with the perfect lyrics, and he doesn't even complete that thought before he falls out.

He awakens, dimly, when Phil slides into bed next to him, moves his phone. He's too tired to blink into coherency and doesn't move, only dimly registering the feeling of Phil's arm around him.

When he awakens again, he feels almost human again. His head hurts though. He finds his phone, which is dangerously low on battery, sees that he's been asleep for fourteen hours. Phil snores next to him softly and Dan rolls, ignores his bladder's protests.

He nudges Phil with a shoulder until Phil wakes up and looks at him blearily.

“Hey,” Dan says softly. Phil smiles at him fuzzily, moves closer so their foreheads are touching.

“Got you to sleep, I see.” Phil murmurs. “You were wrecked last night.”

Dan leans in, kisses him soft and slow and sleepy, sweet and heavy. Phil murmurs something against his mouth and again, it sounds like _love you_ , but Dan doesn't press it, doesn't ask Phil to repeat or clarify, because he's too scared of pushing too far.

But then he gets up to have a slash, washes his hands, takes a long, hot shower to wipe clean the last two days of sick feelings and tiredness.

He doesn't bother with his hair, just letting it air dry into the curly hobbit hair he's starting to not entirely hate because Phil likes it so much.

Dan spends a good portion of the day thinking about those lyrics that hang with him despite being half a day away. He wonders if Phil knows how much he truly means to Dan.

He pulls out his phone, dials Phil, who is only a room away. Phil picks up. “Hello?” Phil asks.

“Hi,” Dan answers, a hushed voice. “I just wanted to say thank you again. For last night. For, um. Soothing me, I guess.”

“It's no problem,” Phil answers. “Where are you?”

“My room.”

“Why are you calling me instead of coming to talk to me?” Phil asks. He turns down the volume on the television from the other room – Dan can hear it in the way the sound goes from a dim background noise to a near-whisper.

“It seemed easier to tell you how I felt over the phone. It's harder face to face,” Dan answers. “Wanted to say I love you.”

Phil's quiet there. He doesn't answer. Dan stills, he hangs on to the silence and waits. There's no response, until a moment later, his door creaks open and Phil stands there, tall in the door frame.

“Say it again,” Phil asks. He stares down Dan, and Dan knows it's a dare for him to be that open and exposed without the drama of a fight to pull it out of him.

“I, um.” Dan clenches the phone in his hand and stares at Phil. “Hi.” He whispers into the phone.

Phil pulls his phone away from his ear and ends the call and Dan drops his own phone into his lap. “Too shy?”

“Fuck off, no, I'm not,” Dan says. “There's just a lot riding on it, okay?”

Phil shrugs. “I suppose there is. But you've said it before.” He kneels next to Dan. “Say it again.”

Dan looks at him with longing full in his chest and does not. He cannot bring the words out again just yet. Not face to face.

Phil watches Dan for a long moment and then leans in to kiss Dan softly. Dan cups Phil's cheeks and murmurs the first thing that comes to his head. “Every few thousand years come true man's greatest fears.”

He wonders if Phil will remember that, if Phil will find out what it means.

Phil pulls back and looks confused only for a few seconds before instinctively grabbing his phone and typing, and he pulls up the song, and they sit there in silence listening to it.

Phil's expression shifts from confused to affectionate and he stands as the song ends, does not say a word to Dan. He stands and starts the song over as he exits the room.

Dan wonders if Phil understands this is foreign and this could be dangerous and crash and burn but also that he’s taking the chance of stepping out of his boundaries, they've got two months to go, that they've come so far, but they've got so much ahead of them too.

But at the same time, he doesn't want to go it alone, he trusts Phil implicitly that they could be okay together.

Two days later, he gets a text from Phil. _So why don't you come away with me, I'll do what it takes, I'll keep you safe, why don't you stay by me and when the time comes we'll escape?_

Dan wants to know what it means. It's so threateningly intimate. He tucks himself into Phil's arms that night.

Phil wakes him up with a kiss, with the pressing of his hips into Dan's. “So, ah, things we haven't tried yet that I'm kind of curious about...” He says, and he catches Dan's hand, pulls it so that Dan can grope his rear.

“Get undressed, I promise it won't hurt.” Dan ushers in a low whisper. Phil doesn't need to explain it. He undresses Phil, takes his time kissing down Phil's chest, sucks at Phil for a few minutes before lubing up two fingers and circling them around Phil's entrance.

“Just go slow,” Phil says quietly. Dan presses inside, feels Phil clamp up around him, sinks his fingers deep and kisses the inside of Phil's thigh.

He does go slow. He takes his time until Phil's relaxing, he works his fingers in and out of Phil, scissors them. He hears Phil say, almost under his breath, “Love you,” and his heart thuds into his chest.

“Say it again,” Dan whispers on his exhale, and Phil stiffens again.

“I said it out loud,” Phil says. Dan's heart drops again. Did Phil not mean to say it out loud? What does it mean if Phil didn't want Dan to hear that?

Then Phil's pushing himself up on his elbows and Dan's staring at him, between his thighs, terrified. Phil looks hesitant, conflicted. “It's just – you've got two fingers up my bum and it doesn't exactly seem like the ideal time to say it out loud for the first time properly, like, I imagined it'd be when we were cuddling,” and Dan snorts at him.

“But you said it,” Dan tells him. Phil gives him a sheepish smile.

“Guess so.”

Dan slides his fingers out of Phil. “I kind of hate you that you've kept me hanging on this long,” he tells Phil as he pours lube onto his cock and slides it along himself, as he wraps Phil's long legs around his waist.

“I love you too,” he adds. “If you hadn't figured that out by now.”

Phil closes his eyes as Dan lines them up and pushes inside carefully. “I kind of did,” he gasps. “The whole staying married thing.”

They don't speak of that. Dan stills, halfway inside Phil.

“Dan?” Phil asks. Dan wants to ask Phil why he brought it up. He nudges forward, his heart catches in his chest, Phil's heat surrounds him and he stops thinking.

“Quiet, I'm busy loving you,” Dan says, soppily, dramatically, changes the topic at hand. Phil makes a face at him.

“You're cheesy and it's embarrassing,” Phil answers. Dan rocks his hips and Phil gasps again. “It doesn't hurt like I thought it would.”

“I promised it wouldn't, didn't I?” Dan says. “I keep those promises.”

He slides in and out of Phil then, and Phil doesn't respond except to beg out Dan's name and wrap his hand around his cock, stroke himself while Dan fills up Phil over and over. It's incredible and Dan's head hangs, his breath pants across Phil's shoulder until he can feel the damp moisture gathering on Phil's skin.

He loses himself in Phil, in Phil's touch and the heat around him.

Later on, he lets Phil tuck himself up in Dan's arms. “Feel all sorts of funny inside. I've got all these thoughts, I'm not ready to talk about them yet, though,” Phil says. “Maybe soonish.”

Dan wants to hear every single one of those thoughts. He wants Phil to pour out over him, expose himself until he's barren so that Dan can speak words and make Phil new with Dan a part of him.

Dan waits for soonish. He waits until there's less than a month to his birthday. He'll be twenty-six. The idea of divorce looms.

He waits and waits and it presses inside him until he snaps. He seeks out Phil and turns off the DVD that Phil's watching.

“We need to talk,” Dan says urgently.

Phil must recognise the way Dan looks at him with fear in his eyes because he doesn't even protest the fact that Dan's interrupted him.

“Okay,” Phil says and he readjusts himself so that Dan can sit across from him on the sofa.

“There's – fuck, Phil, there's less than three weeks. Till, you know.” Dan says quietly, looking solemn at Phil. “Until we have to go about with the whole div-”

Phil cuts him off. “Maybe we just.” He pauses. “Don't.”

Dan stares and his heart stops and he half-stands up in shock, he winds up groping the back of the sofa as he comes back down to sit after his brain gathers itself up. “What.”

Phil rubs his face. “Maybe I was wrong.”

Dan waits. He has no words. He needs Phil to continue. Phil watches him and finally continues. “Maybe I was wrong,” he repeats. “It took me a while – but you and me...” he gestures ambiguously at nothing, speaks again, “and we're husbands... we work.”

Dan takes the chance of reaching out and catching Phil's hand. “Please don't fuck with my head,” he says. “You can't say that. You know what I want.”

Phil nods. “It's becoming a lot more confusing to think about getting a divorce. I just – Dan, you started this out because you knew what marriage meant to _me_ ,” he says. “You knew what it meant. All the importance of actions but I know what marriage means to you, the ceremony of it, and Dan, we never had the proper ceremony.”

Dan won't deny that. “It doesn't matter,” he lies. “I'd rather be married to you now than have the perfect ceremony.”

It's not a total lie, anyways.

But Phil shakes his head. He grabs Dan's hand, pulls off Dan's ring, and then Dan's staring at him as Phil slides off the couch and drops to his knees, kneels on one knee. “No, no. It's not okay. You've given me all that you could so now,” and Dan can't believe how unpredictable and incredibly predictable this seems all at once, “Dan, please, marry me again. Let's do it right. That's what I've been thinking about these last couple of weeks.”

Dan can't breathe, he can't chase away the sharp smile that hits his cheeks and hurts, it hurts for how wide it stretches. His eyes squinch shut at the force of it.

Phil's still got his hand, he's holding Dan's ring. “We'll do it right, we'll get better rings, proper fancy rings. We'll invite our families, our friends, we'll sort it all out so it's perfect the way you imagined it.”

Dan tries to bring up words from his throat, coughs, chokes, sputters out a half-broken jagged sob, contains himself after a few more seconds. “You would pull a stunt like this,” he spits out.

“Dan, just answer,” Phil says, smiling at him in the way that only Phil can smile at him, making him feel warm and safe.

“Yes, you fucking spork, of course,” Dan utters and Phil pushes the ring back onto Dan's finger.

“Going to buy you the nicest ring I can find, replace this cheap one,” Phil says. Dan can't speak because tears are welling up in his eyes and for once he doesn't care that he's a hopeless sop.

“Okay,” he manages. It's all he can manage to get out. Phil gets up off his knees, Dan hears the cracking of a joint, Phil mutters something about getting old, and Dan kisses him to hush him up.

 

In the end, six months later, here's how it goes. Dan's family comes, as does Phil's. Louise, PJ, Chris, Tyler (and Troye, as Tyler's date), and it's a process of coming out in those six months between Phil's proper proposal and the actual date, to their families, to their friends.

It's phone calls made all day because they don't want to wait, because they've already been married for a year, what's the point in waiting another year or longer to actually have a proper ceremony, because that's all that's left.

Finding a venue isn't the hardest part. It's the florist, it turns out, because apparently booking a florist for a wedding requires your firstborn and three years in advance, or so it seems. The musician is almost as hard.

Catering isn't too bad – they decide on what kind of soup and chicken and potatoes and what kind of dessert they'll have.

Once they have the venue and the date picked (December 23rd), the rest does not flow naturally. It's hours of searching the web, Phil hauling Dan into the kitchen and forcing him to sit down and stare at dozens of rings, saying, “I do not trust my own judgement, so you are helping me pick out your perfect ring,” and Dan breaks down into laughter at him.

He picks a silver band with diamonds studding along it, a larger one in the centre.

It's coming out publicly as the date approaches. November 4th is the day they pick, a month and a half to the actual wedding, and they only pick it because that's the day that Phil chooses to leave a hickey on Dan's throat that he can't hide and he was planning on making a video, so he decides fuck it, in a month and a half, it'll come out one way or another, so now's just as good a time as any, and he calls Phil into the bedroom.

It takes them five takes to get through everything. It's confusing and Dan thinks they both sucked at summing it up and nobody will understand them because it took them a year to figure it out themselves.

He edits it and ignores the absolute thousands of phangirls screaming when he uploads it, mainly because he's too busy remembering that they need a fucking photographer and he calls in a favour, a friend who can help them out because it's far too late to find anybody on such short notice.

Phil brings him coffee and Dan guzzles it, wonders why the fuck they decided to make their own save the dates, why they're getting them out so late, they've got a month to go, but they really genuinely forgot when there was so much going on.

But it all works out in the end.

It works out, where there's beautiful music and Dan's got on a fancy suit that cost him too much money and Phil's wearing something equally nice, and he's being escorted down the aisle to Phil, who stares at him.

They have vows, which Dan almost forgets and relies on a notecard, and hates Phil slightly for not needing any notecards, for remembering it all.

His mother cries. He spots Phil's mum wiping at her own eyes, brings his gaze back to Phil's.

Chris catcalls them when they have their “first kiss”, and then there's a muffled noise as if PJ might have whumped him slightly on the shoulder and Dan almost laughs. Tyler whoops a second later and Chris makes a noise as if to say, “See?”

Their first dance is to Train's “Marry Me”. It was upon Dan's insistence. He couldn't stop thinking about the truth of those lyrics. It's horribly cliché and Phil promises him that every single cliché is perfect for Dan, if that's what he wants.

Reception is ridiculous. They make their way and it seems like even though they've come out, people are still just getting it into their heads, despite the entire wedding having taken place, that it's real.

Phil surprises Dan with two tickets to Japan again, their honeymoon. The one thing Dan had no idea about. He surprises Dan and Dan hugs Phil hard and Louise captures the moment, posts it on every bit of social media she can get it on, a picture of Dan's arms wrapped around Phil, the tickets clenched in his hands.

In the end, they do it right and Dan can't help but fall in love with Phil all over again. It took them a year and a half, a wild series of miscalculations and confusion, a step started in the wrong place of mind, but they figured it out.

In the end, it's actually quite perfect.

 


End file.
